Destined to Implode
by Emmie Rose
Summary: For the first time in the history of Hogwarts, there's an exchange student from America and she's less than thrilled to be there. With a temper to match the Weasley's, Adder Ryan fights her new future every step of the way but has trouble resisting the need to belong, and the irritating charm of one Fred Weasley.
1. Preview

**A/N: It's baaaccckkkkk. I've had a revelation people! I saw the light! I didn't need to rewrite the whole story!  
That's right, _Destined to Implode _is alive and kickin'. I've worked out what I'm going to do and my resolve is back. Adder and Fred will have an ending after all! If you're a new reader welcome! You have sixteen chapters to catch up on. If you're my return readers who aren't throwing rocks at me for taking the story down in the first place well you have a REALLY good chapter coming up! Enjoy everyone. I for one, am really happy to be back!**

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"I really need that report on my desk by two this afternoon. The treaty between us and the hill giants depend on it, Walker. I don't know if it will be safe by September if we don't get it done. Would you want to send your family to Rowlings under these conditions?"

"Of course, sir. I mean, of course you'll have that treaty; I wouldn't want to send my family at this point. It's almost done. I just have a few revisions to do and I need that translation, which should be here by noon."

"Right. Now Drew, have you spoken with Britain's head Auror about those wizards that broke their contracts and were supposedly making their way over here?"

"Yes, I just got off Floo with him about a half hour ago. Interesting man. Doesn't seem as if he could be a savior for anything, let alone England's wizarding race. He was very scrawny."

"Yes, but his systems seem rather formidable and he sure jumped to the top of his ranks in an impressive amount of time. So I don't think you should compare yourself as better, because sometimes brawn isn't everything. I've read about what things were like over there and the amount of our kind coming for refuge here then was almost a nightmare. That has to speak for something."Head Auror Drew gulped as Dad's look bore into him.

Oh my God. Why was I here again? I hated sitting through Dad's meetings, but he told me to arrive at this time so I did. Which was really lucky on his part. That I was even here I mean. Surprise, surprise, we was too busy to speak to me. Why call me in if he doesn't want me there?

I flung my legs over the arm rest of the chaise lounge and pointed my toes so my ankles cracked. This was so boring! I let out a pointed sigh and Dad looked up from behind his desk, eyeing me over the top of his reading glasses. He took them off, rubbed the bridge of his nose roughly, before shoving them back on his face and turning to the two men in front of him. That was warning look number one. It's as if he doesn't know his own daughter.

I began to examine my nails. The black polish was chipping. I rolled over on my stomach and began to noisily riffle through my bag, letting out more and more pointed sighs. Dad cleared his voice and I looked up, giving him an innocent smile.

"Sorry Daddy, just looking for my nail polish. I have to entertain myself somehow," I remarked, snapping my gum loudly and tapping the glass bottle against my nails. Dad raised his eyebrows at me in warning and turned back to them. Warning look number two.

"Sir, I admire your belief in their Head Auror. Our diplomacy with England is very important and you run it spectacularly," Walker declared. Dad smiled at his Head of Magical Cooperation politely. God, Walks was _such_ a kiss ass. It made messing with him _extra _fun when he came over for dinners at our place. I snorted and the men all looked at me again.

"Sorry. The nail polish fumes got to me again," I sighed, making my gray eyes wide and innocent. The two heads smiled at me but Dad gave me another warning look. Ding, Ding, Ding! There's number three! And my time here is _over_!

"Addison, why don't you go wait out in the reception area? I shouldn't be much longer." Dad questioned. I raised my eyebrows threateningly. "I'm sorry. I keep forgetting you don't go by your given name."

"Way to elude support Dad. That deadpanned voice just makes you seem sooo interested in my choices," I replied with a small eye roll. He made a shooing motion with his hands so I flicked my wand at my nails, drying them instantly. The two minions' eyes widened. I gave them a sweet smile and skipped from the room. It was my greatest pride and joy, shocking people. I paused in the mirror and fluffed my hair up. My hair was just_ normal_—and I think I finally figured out a way to make a change that Dad can't reverse. I quickly wiped off some of the heavy eyeliner from under my eyes and turned to his receptionist, a tiny little witch that always looked at me like I was going to bite her head off. It was probably because I told her I had my Dad wrapped around my little finger and to honor her job with her life. Like I said…I go for the whole shock factor thing.

"Go ahead and tell Daddy that I went to the closest city by broom and I unfortunately won't make our meeting. Tell him not to set my place for dinner," I commanded before turning on my heel and ignoring her shouts of protest. Adder Ryan doesn't listen to anyone but herself. After all, when your Dad's the American Minister of Magic, you can pretty much do whatever you want.


	2. Chapter 1

**A/F: NEW STORY ALERT! The updates will be sparse because I'm starting school and I'm taking an inordinate amount of credits AND I got a new job at Disneyland. But I'll make sure each of the updates is worth the wait. Secondly, this chapter will take place a few days before the preview I put out (if you read it). I'm still debating about actually putting that chunk in a chapter, I might just refer to the situation rather than put it in. We will see. So from here on out, enjoy! **

**Forever yours magically,  
Emily**

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"Daddy, I'm sorry to interrupt but can you pass the salad please?"

"Of course sweet pea," Dad grinned, flicking his wand and making the large wooden bowl of salad float to our end of the table. Audrey smiled and hefted some onto her plate. I gave her a small look and took a big bite of the meat on my plate making her grimace. I loved teasing the vegetarian. Dad turned back to our lunch guest and eyed him appreciatively.

"So—I was telling Mario Talbert that his take on the last treaty between us and the Muggle President was simply genius. I enjoyed the information that he delved to the public. It was the perfect balance between what we want to keep to ourselves and what everyone needs to know. Great direction there, sir," Walker, The Head of Magical Cooperation, chirped before taking a big gulp of the wine sitting before him. I sighed and picked at the chicken on my plate. It was growing cold but this was so boring. I hate it when Dad's peoples come to lunch.

"Thank you very much, David. I did put some work with it. But I didn't invite you to lunch to speak business. I invited you to enjoy yourself after all that hard work you did on the treaty," Dad coughed, eyeing the man sagely. I resisted an eye roll. Walks was the biggest suck-up I've ever seen. It was like his lips were permanently attached to Dad's ass.

"Right, of course. Of course," Walker announced, jumping to agreement almost before the words came out of Dad's mouth.

"Audrey—you just finished your potions essay, didn't you?" Dad questioned, turning towards us. Audrey perked up considerably at the opportunity to brag about herself and beamed.

"Yeah—I did! It was completely fascinating! It was all about antidotes to poisons. I actually attempted to brew a solution earlier today. It's resting right now but I think it'll turn out alright," she blathered on. I actually rolled my eyes then. Oh for Merlin's sake—I take it back, Audrey (my younger sister) was more of a suck up than Walker was. Walker had a reason to suck-up—Audrey just did it for the hell of it. She already had Dad's approval, why try so hard?

"That's fantastic, dear! And what about you Addison, how's your summer work coming along?" Dad questioned finally shifting his gaze from Audrey and eyeing me. I sat up from where I was slouched in the chair and put on a falsely bright smile.

"Oh completely spiffing Father-dearest!" I started, temporarily ignoring the use of my full name. "I can't believe how stimulating the curriculum is for my History class! In fact, I managed to pull one of Walker's reports from his briefcase and use it as research! But I think I accidentally left an old magazine quiz in there. Oh don't worry—it was only the rating of one's blow job skills and I definitely learned something far more important than that from the report." I chirped, eyeing Walker out of the corner of my eyes. He froze for a second and looked at me with an alarmed look.

"Addison," Dad sighed, raising a palm over his eyes.

"What report?" Walker questioned at the same time.

"The one that was just being sent out. It wasn't important, was it? I left the report in there and I'm sure whoever is receiving it won't care about that silly old quiz," I gasped, my eyes wide. "Unless someone assumes it was your quiz! Although I'm sure there have already been whispers of that sort."

"You what?! That was going to the Muggle President! It was the final documents for signature!" Walker exclaimed, dashing from the table and out of the room.

"Oh blast! I just remembered I doodled your name on top of the quiz as well! Looks like they'll definitely think what they want here, Walks!" I shouted after him, dissolving into snickers.

"Addison!" Dad snapped, his voice sharp now that the company was gone from the table. I turned back to him and gave him an innocent look. Audrey was gaping at me with her jaw slightly open. Dad's ice blue eyes flashed angrily as he threw his napkin over his plate and I felt my eyes (of completely identical color) react in the same manner.

"I thought I requested you not use that name in my presence, Daddy. How many times do I have to tell you that that name is despicable and I much more prefer Adder," I sighed, sticking out my bottom lip a little.

"I'll call you what I please! I can't believe you did that! You probably just ruined six months of work," Dad roared, standing now. His face was a rather familiar shade of red—probably familiar because I was so used to it being directed at me.

"Oh _relax_ Pops. I was only joking. I didn't actually leave evidence to Walker's homosexuality for the Muggle President to find," I sighed, rolling my eyes and flicking some hair out of my face. Dad's face went from bright red to a less violent shade as he sat down again.

"Minnie!" he shouted. There was a large crack as the tiny House Elf arrived in the dining room. She was flattening the bottom of her crisp white pillow case uniform. It was belted around the middle with a length of gold chord making the bottom half flare out like a party dress.

"Yes Master?" she squeaked, fluttering her foot long eyelashes at him.

"Addison is finished with her lunch. Don't do anything for her—she will be in her room. And thank you very much for lunch—it was delicious," Dad announced in a level tone of voice. I shrugged and stood, dropping my fork onto the glass plate with a clatter. Like I cared—I wasn't hungry anyways. Minnie turned her tennis ball eyes on me and gave a little squeak before taking my plate and scurrying back to the kitchen.

"Go to your room and give me your wand," Dad ordered. I froze. Like I was actually going to give him my wand without some sort of argument.

"Sorry, I lost my wand," I shrugged. Dad hefted another sigh and flicked his own wand at me but I dodged the disarming spell easily. He's just so predictable. "You really shouln't use such magic on your offspring—it could damage my psyche. I'm absolutely certain it's abuse in some way as well—shall I bring it to Perkins in the Misuse of Magic Offices?"

"Don't test me, dear. Just go to your room Addison. I'm putting a spell on the house so you can't leave. I'll speak to you when I get back from the office tonight and I'll know if you do magic so don't," Dad sighed. He was rubbing his eyes with his thumbs, making his small square glasses rise up onto his forehead in the process.

"Well fine then—it wouldn't be the first time I've been put on house arrest." I sang, giving Dad a mocking salute and sauntering down the hall to my room. I flopped face first on my bed. It was unmade—as always, considering Minnie was forbidden to clean it each and every day as I got in trouble. It's not like I ever really cared. I preferred it this way, really.

My plush bed held a canopy of gauzy black material strung around four spindly wrought-iron posts. I'd conjured some twinkling white lights and wound them around the curls in the headboard. The walls were covered in embossed wall paper (originally light blue but charmed a burgundy a few years ago) and the floor was dark wood (not that I could actually see the floor since it was completely covered in piles of clothes, books, my school trunk, piles and piles of magazines, and such). I hefted a sigh and sat up, running my fingers through my hair before grabbing a magazine from the floor. I was currently halfway through it when my sister started shouting my name.

"ADDIE! HAVE YOU SEEN MY PINK SWEATER!? I CAN'T FIND IT ANYWHERE!"

I promptly ignored her, flipping casually through the glossy pages of the magazine.

"ADDIEEEEEEEE! I CAN'T FIND IT! LIKE FOR REAL! WHERE'S MY SWEATER?!"

I flicked my wand at my bedroom door and it slammed shut, blocking out my little sister's whining by a few decibels.

"SERIOUSLY! IT'S NOT IN THE LAUNDRY ROOM! IT'S NOT IN MY ROOM! WHERE IS IT?! DID MINNIE PUT IT IN YOUR ROOM?!"

I shot a silencing charm at the door and the noise stopped completely. I grinned to myself and rolled on my back, holding the magazine over my face so I could read it. I flipped the pages slowly, turning it this way and that so I could look at the brightly colored clothes on the inside. My door slammed open and I dropped the magazine on my face in surprise.

"A silencing charm?! Really?!" Audrey questioned, folding her arms over her chest. Damn, I didn't lock the door.

"You're annoying," I snorted, rubbing my nose where the spine hit it. "Now leave before I hex you."  
"You're not allowed to do magic. You're not seventeen yet. Plus Dad just told you not to like not five minutes ago," Audrey sighed. I rolled my eyes and rolled my wand between my palms.

"Since when has that ever stopped me? It's not like I'm going to get in _real _trouble. You should loosen up a bit. Maybe try a summoning charm to find that precious sweater of yours," I sneered. Audrey's eyes narrowed at me and she stalked over to my dresser, yanking the drawer open.

"You know, every time you do magic Daddy gets in trouble," she sighed, riffling through my messy drawers.

"Right. Everyone is sooo going to challenge the Minister of Magic. He's not going to lose his job for his daughter being who she's supposed to be, magical. Just because I do things the convenient way doesn't mean I should change because of my age. Plus I'll be seventeen in October. Live a little, twerp."

"Really, can you just not be such a surly brat for two seconds of your life Addie," Audrey sighed, planting a hand on her hip and turning to face me. I raised my eyebrows at her.

"_Accio pink sweater_."

She huffed and slammed the drawer closed.

"Sometimes I wonder if _I'm_ really the older one! You don't listen to anything and all you _ever_ do is cause problems," she snapped as the sweater came hurtling into the room. It draped itself over her face and she ripped it off.

"Like that color would even be able to survive in my drawers, the black would swallow it whole. Now get out of here before I hang you over the fireplace with a permanent sticking charm."

Audrey froze and pulled at her fingers. I sighed and lowered my magazine, eyeing her expectantly. She was going to say something and she wouldn't leave until I made my threats real, which I was internally debating on. It's not like I haven't done it before, just haven't done the stuck to the fireplace route. I'm actually quite proud of myself for the ingenious of the idea.

"I need some advice and since you're the only one here, it's going to have to be you," she sighed, plopping down onto the edge of my bed. I knitted my brows. I'm not really one to give advice in the first place. "Trust me, I tried fire-calling Mrs. Stevens, but she was off with the new family she's nannying for. I don't want to ask you, but I'm desperate."

"What do I get for being your savior?" I questioned, raising one eyebrow. She was right—without our childhood nanny Mrs. Stevens around, Audrey currently had to deal with me for any such advice. That doesn't mean I was going disclose information without milking Audrey for something that will benefit me as well.

"Next time you sneak out, I'll actually cover for you," Audrey deadpanned. That might be too alluring to pass up. Audrey was the biggest snitch in the whole wide world.

"Alright, but you have to unbreakable vow on that one," I grinned. Audrey rolled her eyes.

"As if that would happen. You'll just have to take my word for it," she snorted. I pouted and scooted against my headboard, eyeing the thirteen year old critically.

"Right, so I know you've had plenty of experience with this. But—I'm going out to a unicorn ranch tonight and Kyle Collins is going to be there. I really, really like him and I don't know what to do! I just end up acting all awkward around him and making a complete fool of myself," she spouted off, looking up at me with big eyes. First of all the whole situation was ridiculous.

"What the hell are _guys _going to a_ unicorn_ ranch for? They can't get anywhere near them in the first place," I snorted.

"That's beside the point! What do I do?! Do I talk to him? Ask about his life?" she questioned, bouncing slightly.

"You ignore him," I shrugged. Audrey blinked at me.

"_Ignore him_?"

"Yeah. Act like he doesn't exist and then suddenly you walk by, give him a compliment, maybe slightly brush your body against his and then go back to ignoring him," I ordered but then paused when I looked at her. "On second thought, forget about the body brush. Your lack of curves is a turn off."

"I have curves!" Audrey exclaimed, looking down at her chest.

"Audrey you're thirteen. You have as many curves as a plank of wood," I laughed, picking up my magazine again. Audrey huffed.

"You're advice is ridiculous. How will he ever know who I am if I ignore him?"

"You can take it or you can leave it, now get out. Oh and think about who you've asked. I can get any guy I want to with just a bat of my eyelashes. But go ahead and don't listen to me," I sighed. Audrey let out a peal of laughter.

"Addison Ryan, I think if your head was any more inflated, you'd be lucky _not_ to float away," Audrey exclaimed, standing and crossing her arms over her chest. I raised my eyebrows at her and fingered my wand. Audrey's eyes widened as I tossed my magazine aside. She just broke one of the cardinal rules of the house. Don't _ever_ call me Addison. I can hardly tolerate Addie as it is.

"I'd run twerp, unless you want to be a new decoration in the foyer," I growled and she scampered. I looked around my room. There were clothes heaped in plies everywhere and my curtains were permanently drawn, giving the light in the room a tinged redness. Merlin I was bored. I sighed and examined my nails. There wasn't much to do, even when one has the countries resources in her hands. I got up and exited my room, wandering down the long hallway. I ran my fingertips along the fabric lower half of the walls, feeling the grooves and swoops of each individual embroidered curly-cue. The narrow hallway was lined with pictures. I paused and looked up at one absentmindedly. The figure grinned down at me from behind the framed glass.

Her eyes were bright and coal colored with sweeping black hair that was thick and pin straight falling into her long lashes. Everything about her towering figure seemed to glow, even down to her bronze skin. I felt my blood boil at her face. She was just smiling at me with perfect white teeth, a dimple exposed on one side of her cheek. I gave an angry jab of my wand and the glass shattered, cracking in a dangerous spider web. The person in the picture gave a silent scream—only portraits could talk. I was grateful for this, really. It was bad enough merely _looking_ at it. I don't know why Dad kept this picture hung—especially with the many times I've destroyed it.

I walked further down the hall and paused as it opened up into the living room. I stared at the figure in front of me. Same towering frame, same pin straight black hair, same bronze skin, but with piercing ice blue eyes. I jabbed my wand at the mirror causing it to mimic the picture—its fissures winding all the way to the edges.

I cocked my head to the side and repaired the mirror with a swish of my wand. I carefully tapped the crown of my head and my hair turned from jet black to ice blonde, I frowned and repeated it making it chestnut, a honey blonde and then finally fire red. Biting my lip, I fingered a lock of the new hair. It was alright, certainly better than before. I twisted the wand slightly making the color less crayon like and huskier; its better. Far better than before. I gave my reflection a slight nod and wandered into the kitchen.

Minnie was bustling around the stove, hovering pots and pans, the sink washing on its own accord. I flicked my wand at the pot she was holding—it was larger than her and looked to be filled with scalding liquid. She squeaked in surprise as I made it land gently on the burner.

"It looked heavy, Min," I shrugged, giving her a small smile.

"Miss shant be doing magic. Master says so," Minnie scolded. I shrugged and flicked my wand at the carrots she started to chop. They began to chop themselves. She gave an indignant squeak again and moved to the potatoes. "Miss!"

"I'm just trying to help you Min. I feel bad that you made me lunch and I didn't even eat it," I replied, twirling my hair around my fingers.

"Minnie is very much happy that Miss wishes to help but Master said you shant," Minnie growled. I held up my hands innocently and grabbed an apple from the bowl on the center of the island.

"Minnie—you know you don't have to call me Miss, right?" I questioned quietly. Minnie rolled her tennis ball eyes at me and I grinned. I was the only member of the family she sassed. It was refreshing and I knew it wasn't out of disobedience or dislike but comfort with me. Minnie has always been there. The fireplace flared suddenly and the rotund form of Mrs. Stevens spilled into the kitchen.

"Oh hello Minnie—stew tonight? Smells delicious. Does that mean Audrey won't be joining the family for dinner?" she questioned, sniffing at the pot of broth.

"Nope—she's going to a Unicorn farm," I declared, discord coating my words. It sounded like a horrific outing. Unicorns may be beautiful but it's not like they really did anything.

"Oh! Adder! I didn't see you there," Mrs. Stevens exclaimed, putting a hand to her heart.

"How could you not? I changed my hair to the color of a brush fire," I snorted, grinning at her. She was the only one that _always_ called me by what I requested. It worked with Princess Pinklewinkle when I was five and Adder now. Audrey kept with it pretty well but mostly stuck with Addie and Dad—well Dad absolutely refused.

"I can see that. And as lovely as it looks your father isn't going to let you keep it that way," she sighed. I frowned and took a bite of my apple—chewing contemplatively.

"I don't see why not. It's just hair," I sighed.

"You know why," Mrs. Steven tutted. She ran a friendly hand over the top of my head and I gave her a slight smile. "Now what'd you do that your Dad asked me to come over and keep an eye on you?"

"I might have told Walker that I slipped a homographic quiz in the documents that were being sent to the Muggle President," I sighed. Mrs. Stevens groaned and pat her salt and pepper hair.

"Oh Addison, when are you going to learn to grow up? You're sixteen years old and you need to learn how to behave like it," she stated, looking me directly in the eye. I squirmed a bit. For some reason Mrs. Stevens could always make me feel guilty about my actions, not that she necessarily stopped me from doing it in the first place.

"I didn't really. I could've, but I didn't. It was just a joke," I squeaked.

"You really mustn't push your father's buttons. He's already under enough pressure. Can't you be more like your younger sister?"

"And be a stuck-up goodie goodie, no thank you," I snapped, sliding from the stool I was perched on. Mrs. Stevens gave me an even look and I found my will to fight her weaken. I swear she was a trained Legilimens because she always took my resolve away. I gave a rather immature whine and stomped my foot before stalking back towards my bedroom. I'm sick of people suggesting I act more like Audrey! I don't want to be like Audrey. I don't even want to be a _little_ bit like Audrey. I'm the older sister. Isn't she supposed to be compared to me?

I grabbed the simple black notebook with the hard leather cover and the tin of pencils off my nightstand and plopped stomach first onto my bed. I flipped open the cover and gently turned the delicate pages until I got to the most recent one. I ran my pinky along the edge of a line, smudging and shading its harsh points and strokes. The picture was gently forming in slopes and swirls but it wasn't done yet. It wasn't complete in my head. I bit my lower lip and pried off the lid to the metal tin before eyeing my choices critically and finally choosing a slender stick of charcoal. Slowly I began to continue down in a slope, using one fluid line to complete the back of the shoulders down to the curve of the back. With a few more sure strokes I had the body placed out on the vestiges of a face I had already created. The face was still blank though, only its bare structures pressed to the paper. It had no life. It was hollow.

I blinked at it, debating on where I actually wanted to take this portrait. Suddenly my wrist was moving with such quick movements I could scarcely believe I was controlling it. Shading over the face was easy—simple and haunting almost. Blank staring eyes. I couldn't give life to my portraits lately. I roughly ripped the page from the book and crumpled it into a ball before throwing it into a corner.

I was still reattempting to sketch this face in my mind hours later. I knew what it looked like almost as much as I would know my own face—but I couldn't do it justice. I couldn't make it spark and grow on paper. It ended up an angry version of the vision in my mind's eye. I ripped and chucked another scraped piece and threw my sketchbook at the foot of my bed—it bounced off the mattress and clattered to the floor. I couldn't begin to care. There was a small knock on my door. Lazily I waved my wand at the mahogany surface. It flew open to reveal Dad standing there, a slight disapproving look on his face. His eyes flicked across the room as he made his way in, sweeping the piles on the ground and landing on reject pile.

"Your picture still giving you trouble?" he questioned, waving his wand at my curtains. They slid open followed by the soft bump of the window cranking open. A soft breeze played across the room, making my bed hangings sway slightly. I nodded blankly as Dad perched on the edge of my bed, pulling a throw pillow underneath his butt and tossing it next to me.

"Addison—we need to talk about lunch," Dad started slowly. I flicked my eyes over to him before looking back at the wall.

"What's there to talk about? I did bad. I get punished. We've been through this," I sighed.

"That's not what I want to talk to you about. Your behavior—it's well…less than desirable. If you're not sneaking out and showing up in the tabloids at some bar, you're embarrassing me in front of the Ministry and my staff. It's not—"

"Acceptable. I get it Dad."

"Addison—Adder," he relented. I really looked at him now. It's one of the first times he's actually called me that. "I know that since your moth—"

"This has nothing to do with Mom so don't even suggest it," I snapped cutting him off. His lips grew thin for a moment before he spoke again.

"I see you changed your hair again. Red this time," he stated, motioning a hand to my head. I raised a hand to it. I forgot about that.

"I hate my hair color," I grumbled.

"It's not presentable to dye your hair," he sighed. He gave his wand a rap over my head and I felt it shiver. He'd changed it back again. "Now—I'm afraid that if you don't do something about your behavior there will be some drastic consequences."

"Like what Dad? Not going back to Rowlings to finish school? I doubt that's much of a punishment," I snorted.

"No, I have other options at my disposal. This is your last warning Addison, one more toe out of line and I won't just contain you to your room," he stated. His voice was low and dangerous—like he was trying someone in a court and not talking to his eldest daughter. I blinked at him. I'd like to see him try. He wasn't going to snap my wand; it didn't do anything for his image. I honestly didn't think he had the capacity to think of any sort of punishment worse than what he was doing now.

"Right Dad, I'll behave," I stated finally—mentally rolling my eyes and snorting. Dad got up from the edge of my bed and gave me a light kiss on the forehead.

"I only do this because I love you, Addison. What you do—the risks you take to merely get a reaction aren't worth the consequences they cause. Remember that," he stated, leaving the room. I chucked my pillow fiercely at the back of the door with a frustrated shriek.

"It's Adder!" I shouted at the wood. But I doubt he heard—he was probably back in his study for the night, protecting his image further. Like he even _actually_ cared.

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**A/A: So there it is! The first chapter of Destined to Implode! I hope you all liked it. Bear with Adder, she'll grow on you, I promise. She's just going through things. The next chapter is another Adder centric and then Fred will be in the picture after that. I just have to develop the exposition a bit more. Tell me what you think!**

**Forever yours Magically,**

**Emily**


	3. Chapter 2

**A/F: So I have decided to add the preview scene. I'm just going to write it slightly different so you're not reading the same thing.**

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"You must be Addison! Minister Ryan said I should expect you, but he's with a few people right now," Dad's newest receptionist chirped as I stumbled out of the Floo and into his private reception room. I narrowed my eyes at her.

"I know Daddy might say otherwise—but unfortunately that's not my name," I growled. Her eyes widened and she began to flip through a small notepad on his desk.

"Oh—I'm sorry. It said here that Minister Ryan has two daughters. Audrey and Addison," she stuttered, pushing the book towards me. I glanced down the end of my nose at it and grimaced.

"Sorry! I know—the new job and all must be completely frightening. Let me lay down the law here—kay? Daddy loves me more than anything. I'm his first born. The first of his blood. The first in line for the throne. So he kinda treats me like the most precious thing in the world. I don't approve of it—I hate being spoiled—but I am and frankly he expects _everyone_ to treat me the same way."

The woman's eyes were wide as saucers and I had to suppress a laugh. I couldn't help it—putting on the über spoiled little Daddy's girl was one of the most fun things about Dad getting a new receptionist. Take it as my little initiation and it's not like I do any _serious_ harm.

"So first rule is—I go by _Adder_. Not Addison. Not Addie. Adder," I chirped. She blinked at me as I edged the notebook back with the tips of my fingers. "You might want to write that down." She scrambled for a pen and painstakingly crossed out 'Addison' and printing 'Adder' above it in small, neat letters.

"That's really all you have to know. Oh! And my Dad is _deathly_ allergic to coffee. He won't admit it—but whenever he asks for it I find it prudent to bring him _really_ black tea. Don't tell him its tea or he'll throw a fit, just act like its coffee. We all find it best to humor him in that area," I added, pausing with my hand on the doorknob. She nodded sagely and carefully wrote that down beneath my name. I took the advantage of her being preoccupied to slip into the office while covering my sniggers. Dad couldn't _stand_ tea. Says if he wants to drink leaves he'll become a forager.

Basking in the light of my latest prank, I flounced into Dad's office. It's been far too long since I've done anything remotely against the rules. Not because I didn't want to, but because Mrs. Stevens was keeping me fucking busy doing this petty work all day. I suspect Dad ordered her to keep an eye on me and that was her taking it into her own hands. Basically for the past week I've been utterly bored.

"Sup Daddy-o! What's shaking? What's with the summons?" I questioned loudly, plopping down onto the chaise lounge and flipping my legs over the back. I adjusted my black leggings and dug into my leather studded bag. Dad was currently in what looked like a general meeting with Walker and Auror Drew, the head of the Auror Department. He was a fine piece of man meat and I always amp'd up the flirt when he was around—not so much to get results but mostly because it was fun and it made him uncomfortable.

"Addison, just hold on for a few minutes while I finish this meeting," Dad groaned. I flashed him a cheesy thumbs-up and began to kick my heels against the back of the lounge. Dad gave me a look and I merely replied with a scrunched up nose and a grin. As they blathered on about whatever the hell they were talking about—I stared idly out the window to his office. It was misting, yet sunny. It made me want to hurl.

I wished I could live spread out amongst the country like most of the American Wizarding population—but no! We had to live up where the action was! The Ministry, most of our wizarding shopping centers/villages, and the school was located in a very remote area of the Colorado Rockies. Colorado itself held a majority of the American population with California and then New York following that. Everywhere else just held two or three small groupings. I wished I could live in California like some of my acquaintances at school. They always came to Rowlings tan and sun kissed while I stayed the same color all year round (I'm ignoring the fact that my natural skin color is quite tan as it is; it's the principle of the matter). I honestly wished I could live anywhere but here. They only way I can get to any Muggle shopping centers of quality were by a long broom ride or Floo than the Knight Bus. Very much a hassle.

Oh Merlin, could they be talking about things of less boring nature? I keyed into a few snippets of the conversation. Something about rouge Giant Wizards from England and Dark Hills near Rowlings. Or reversed. Whatever. I let out a rather pointed sigh; I mean I have been waiting for at _least_ a half hour. I was actually on time too.

I tapped my fingers on my thigh and noticed my black nail polish was chipping. Plopping my feet onto the ground heavily (making sure to make as much noise as I could with my combat boots. My feet almost came out of them when they ricocheted back up slightly, but that could be because I keep them mostly untied and folded down). Rummaging in my bag (again loudly) I located my nail polish. Drawing my feet up beneath me I flicked my wand at the bottle and spread my fingers flat. The small brush dipped itself in the bottle and set to work on my finger nails.

"Addison!" Dad snapped. I looked up with wide eyes.

"What?! I'm just painting my nails," I pouted.

"Stop using magic," he sighed. I shrugged and flicked my wand making the bottle crash to the floor. Dad let out a loud groan. "Oops—my nails were wet. Sorry."

Drew shot me a look (which I reciprocated with my best 'smolder face') and waved his wand, vanishing the black stain from the carpet.

"Addison—"

"Stop calling me that!" I interrupted. Dad and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"I'm sorry—it just keeps slipping my mind that you don't go by your given name. It must be a family trait since you seem to keep forgetting that _you are not seventeen yet_," he declared, emphasizing the last part.

"Good to know you're just sooo in tune with your own child's wishes," I droned, rolling my eyes very obviously.

"Addison—I don't need your sass. Go wait outside so we can finish this meeting in peace," Dad ordered, pointing at the door. I stood up and snatched my bag from the ground.

"I showed up on time for once, upon your orders, and you don't even talk to me. Thanks for wasting my time Daddy," I grumbled. Dad rolled his eyes in the briefest of ways. He still hadn't completely snapped at me yet—all his orders were in that definitive and unarguable tone that he uses to give orders at work.

"I _will_ meet with you, sweetheart. Just go wait outside for me," he sighed. I rolled my eyes and stalked out of the room, ignoring the 'Thank you' he shouted after me. I went to go plop down on the comfy reception couch but paused as I passed the mirror on the wall. I fingered my glossy hair and frowned. Every time I changed it to that newly preferred red color this week, Mrs. Stevens would automatically change it back, even before Dad could see it. I was zoning out, my reflection blurring as my eyes unfocused, and a memory dawned on me. I know a way to show him. I was far overdue for a 'cry for attention' as he always put it in his lectures. I turned to the tiny receptionist, finally noticing a name plate.

"Arabella, tell Daddy that I've gone to the nearest village by broom," I started, heading for the door that would lead out to the main floors of the ministry. The receptionist gaped at me. "You can also let him know to tell Minnie not to set a place for me at dinner. I won't be getting home till late anyways. Oh, he also wanted a cup of 'coffee'. You know what to do. Thanks, doll."

I scampered away as fast as I could, heading to the lift and making a quick stop on the floor that held the Magical Games and Sports department. I still hadn't received my own broom back from Dad after a past grounding so I just picked up a similar model from the test room before heading out to the main atrium and finally out to the street.

I shot up into the air, gripping the broom handle with my knees and yanking my leather, heather gray, motorcycle jacket out of my magically space enhanced bag and managed to pull it on over my loose black crop top without falling off the broom. I flattened myself against the handle and sped off towards the crook in between two mountains. It held the most popular, pure wizard, shopping complex Fairfax Court.

I squinted my eyes against the wind and felt it rip my hair back from my skull. Merlin, how long was it since I've really _flown_? Since before Dad took away my broom? So at least a month? I never got it back because I had to pretend that I didn't care he took it away and then it got to the point where I was off doing other rebellious things to even think about flying. Well shame on me, flying was amazing and I forgotten how therapeutic it actually was.

When I was in the air it was like when I was really in the zone sketching. It was just me and the sky or me and the paper. Nothing else mattered. I didn't have to _prove_ anything to anyone. I didn't have to be tough. I could just be me. I let out a loud whoop of joy and did a spontaneous barrel roll, diving under a rather large cloud in the process. I knew I was probably a little bit too low and was passing over a few Muggle towns, but I didn't feel the need to soak myself to the bone with cloud precipitation. It was already going to be a long flight as it was.

By the time I reached the Square my fingers were frozen to my broomstick handle and all the elation of flying wore off as soon as my ass fell asleep. I jumped off in the center of the Square and cast a cushioning charm on the items in my bag before shoving the broomstick inside. It was safe to do magic here—I'm too surrounded by magic for the trace to pick up.

Pursing my lips I turned in a slight circle trying to remember just where the shop was. Finally I recognized the little tea shop and the small robe boutique and headed that way, taking a short turn in the street between the two. Ah—here it is.

I looked in through the glass window at all the witches sitting in the swirly beauty chairs. A blonde woman's hair was being curled mid-air on its own. A girl with a pixie cut was having it grown out to her lower back. There was a girl with her head tipped back in a basin, when the witch in hot pink robes urged her to sit up her ultra curly hair just fell flat like a waterfall. I grinned. If anyone would be able to do it—it'd be here.

Confidently I pushed open the door and stalked inside and straight up to the small glass desk where a bored witch was holding up her hand so a nail file to could shape her nails.

"Scuse me," I chirped, hefting my bag higher on my shoulder. "I'd like someone to fix my hair."

"Sign your name in," she answered automatically before blowing a rather impressive bubble gum bubble—it changed from bright pink, to purple, to blue, before it popped and showered the table with confetti flowers of those colors. They had disappeared before I could even finish signing my last name onto the list in front of her. "Take a seat," was her next order. I held back an impatient sigh and sat down on the leather chair, eyeing the back issues of Witch Weekly spread artfully across the table. I would make a fuss, but honestly I didn't feel up to making a scene. There was a large gasp from the reception table and I felt a smirk curve my lips. Looks like I didn't need to speak to her regardless.

"Addison Ryan?" the receptionist questioned hesitantly. I felt myself groan. The salon had fallen into a hush as its occupants peeked my way.

"I believe I put Adder on your little list there," I sighed.

"Oh! Right—sorry. I just—well, you've never been in here before. You and your sister always seemed to have someone take care of that for you at home. Wasn't it your mothe—"

"Can we please not mention her? Can I just be helped?" I interrupted with a slight snap to my voice.

"Yeah—sure! Kelly can take you over there," the receptionist sighed, her fingers edging towards her wand.

"Yeah—don't call your publicity hounds just yet. I'm not here to trash your store or make a scene for the tabloids. I'm just here to get my hair done. If you do it for me, I'll tell every magazine where I got it done," I cut in, putting my hand on her wrist as I passed by. She blinked up at me and her lips pursed. "Trust me—they'll ask about my hair," I sighed again, answering her unasked question. This seemed to work for her because she went back to her nails leaving me to weave in and out of chairs to a waiting Kelly.

"Oh wow—I can't believe you want to do anything to your hair. It's so beautiful," she sighed, touching it hesitantly as I sat down in front of her.

"I hate it. I wanted to know if you could somehow change the color and make it so it can't be changed back by magic—or at least only I could," I questioned crisply.

"Yeah—I can change it permanently but in order to change it back you need to special owl order a potion from our main warehouses," she shrugged, lifting the mass of it and hefting it all over my shoulders to the back.

"That'll be perfect," I nodded, tapping my head with my wand. My hair changed to the desired red and Kelly gaped. "This is the color I want."

"It's so—red. Can I weave orange and butter low and highlights? It'll make it more balanced."

"Whatever. Just make it this color. It's as far away from the original as possible," I sighed, settling back as she scurried off to gather potions. She came back with an armful and began lathering it in my hair. Suddenly my whole head was engulfed in foaming purple potion and standing straight up on the top of my head. Kelly took her wand out of her apron and began to draw lines all around the strands. With one more twist it swirled into a coil on the crown of my head and she tapped it again. It grew tight, pulling at my forehead and the skin at the roots of my hair.

"Right, just go sit under that thing," she ordered, pointing to a chair with a cone shaped helmet on top. I shrugged and took my purple headed self to the chair, easing my ridiculous up-do under the helmet. Kelly came over and tapped it with her wand. It suddenly felt like I was Flooing—engulfed in flames but it didn't burn and as soon as the feeling came it went. Kelly lifted the helmet and led me back to the chair, pulling a tiny golden hammer from one of her many apron pockets. She began to tap the top of my head. The potion had turned from goo to a substance so hard I didn't think concrete could break it back open. Kelly was gently tapping all around, making her way from my right ear all the way to my left. Finally she straightened up, gave the crown of my head a good tap, and the helmet shattered. It broke apart in a million pieces and my hair tumbled back down my back, the same texture as before but this time a perfect combination of red. I didn't even recognize myself.

"Perfect, absolutely perfect," I declared, leaning in towards the mirror and smirking at my reflection. I dug my money bag out of my purse, grabbed a good amount of galleons and threw it on the counter. "Keep the change. Great job."

And with that I slid out of the chair and stalked back out into the square. I checked my watch and sighed. I still could take a couple hours out here in order to make my point. I hefted a sigh and headed towards a secondhand shop that held interesting items. The door gave a cheery bird chirp when I opened it up and the tiny withering shop keeper looked up from his book.

"Hello Adder. Escape again?" he questioned, flipping the page and concentrating back on his book.

"Just flew here, Mr. Flux. I wanted to get away, as usual," I replied, brushing my fingers over a few old spell books. I pulled out one that caught my eye and let it fall flat in my palm. "I had to get my hair done."

"You mean you didn't do it yourself this time?" He questioned with a slightly alarmed undertone.

"I wised up and made it so he can't change it back," I shrugged, tucking the book under my arm. It was all about the magic behind portraits and what exactly made them act like their human counterparts. Mr. Flux always makes sure to buy things I would be especially interested in. The wizened wizard let out a low whistle. I made sure to hide behind a table piled rather high in pointed hats of various colors so he wouldn't see my expression.

"He won't be happy about that. I'd watch yourself if I was you, Adder. One of these days you're going to yank too many wands and the Minister is going to follow through with the threats," Mr. Flux sighed. I bit my lip and regained my composure before popping back into view.

"Mrs. Stevens keeps saying that too. But Dad has never once followed through with his threats. They're all empty," I shrugged, placing the book on the counter in front of him. "Just this, please."

We exchanged goods and I pushed out into the now dusky streets, contemplating on picking up a burger in the café. Maybe stopping by and getting some fudge at the sweet shops. All my plans were halted however when I noticed two tall men in the tight black robes. Dad's Personal Hit Wizards, or as I fondly called them 'The Dog Catchers', with me as the dog. I ducked behind a woman shooing a gaggle of children and crept in time with them. One little girl with blonde braids eyed me hesitantly as I held a finger up to my lips. I was just peeking over the tops of little heads (the Hit Wizards were stopping random people and asking around) when the little girl shrieked at the top of her lungs.

"Stranger Danger, Miss Phillips! Stranger Danger!" she bawled, pointing at my face. Their teacher stopped from where she was corralling her herd and looked alarmed in her direction.

"The girl is trying to steal me! You told us to shout!" the midget was declaring, now in complete hysterics. Oh for the love of Merlin, I really hate children.

"I'm not trying to kidnap you, I was trying to hide behind you," I groaned, as the teacher came rushing over. She stopped when she noticed exactly who I was (how could she not—I was the 'famous' daughter of the Minister of Magic). Her mouth formed a look of surprise as she looked over at the Hit Wizards. They'd noticed the ruckus and were making their way over. The teacher gave me an apologetic look as the Hit Wizards zoned in on me. Damn, I was caught. I put on a cheery smile and fluttered my lashes at them.

"What brings you here, boys? Rather far away from the Ministry, huh?" I questioned, flicking some hair over my shoulder.

"So are you Miss Ryan," one of them piped up. I shrugged and jumped up on the ledge of the fountain behind me. I began to make my way around the circle, letting out a much put out sigh.

"See—it was too stuffy there. I felt the need to change my scenery," I explained, carefully balancing on the edge.

"Your father has requested for us to bring you back," the other one stated. I rolled my eyes.

"Do you two do _everything_ my father asks of you? It's rather fun to break the rules once and a while, you should really attempt it. I heard it's rather good for the bowels," I stated carefully.

"I don't know exactly what you mean by that," the first one sighed.

"Well you two have that constant look of constipation on your face. I was stating that breaking the rules might help with that," I giggled, jumping from the edge and rocking back on my heels. The second one groaned and looked at his partner.

"Why do you always _walk into_ everyone of her insults?" he questioned, gently taking my upper arm. The first one was sighing and suddenly I was being pressed from all sides as we apparated directly into my Dad's office. He looked up in surprise at the loud crack and stood up when he noticed who it was.

"That was fast, good job," he grinned. The two Hit Wizards saluted (really guys? Does everyone just _suck_ _up_ to him _all the time_?).

"Well the hair was quite easy to spot," the second one (I really should learn their names one of these days) stated crisply. I rolled my eyes and jerked my arm from his hands.

"That's a lie. You only found me because I accidentally scared a child to tears," I snorted, taking my usual spot and lounging comfortably.

"You two are dismissed—thank you," Dad sighed, waiting until they were completely gone to cast a charm at the door. All outside noise fell away further and I sighed, Silencing Charm. He was looking at me levelly—his icy blue eyes steely with anger. Suddenly he strode across the room and touched his wand to my hair. I kept my smirk at bay. Dad let out a small grunt and repeated the gesture. I really did smile then—looking up at his livid face with a slightly amused expression of my own.

"What have you done to your hair?" he questioned, his voice low.

"I got it colored, Daddy," I replied cheerfully.

"Why can't I change it back?"

"Because it's permanent," I shrugged, grabbing my new book from my bag and cracking it open. The book was suddenly ripped from my hands and tossed unceremoniously back into my bag.

"Addison Giselle Ryan—what, for the love of all things magical, do you mean by _permanent_?" Dad questioned—his face changing colors rapidly. I cringed. Not only did he call me _Addison_ but he used my middle name too. Boy he was blowing this out of proportion.

"Permanent means it can't be undone," I sighed.

"I know what it means! I'm just attempting to wrap my head around the fact that you did this!" Dad roared, the calm before the storm blown away. It might as well start thunder and lightning. Or maybe gale force winds. He was that angry.

"Well you were all busy and I was bored," I started only to be cut off by his next set of rants.

"I was in a _meeting_ Addison! A meeting! You wait for those to be done and then I would've spoken to you! It's not like I never meant to!"

"You were busy and like I said, I was bored!" I repeated, standing up so I could get to a better eye level with him. "I thought I'd make use of my time properly!"

"You were doing so well, Addison! I was calling you in to congratulate you for a week well done! But then you go and do _this_!" he roared, placing his hands on my shoulders.

"Will you chill out, Dad! It's not like I went and killed anyone."

"I will not _chill out_, Addison. I warned you. I warned you that there will be big consequences if you pull this sort of stunt again. Do you actually know what you did?" he stated, letting go of me and stalking to his desk. He rifled through a few papers and removed something, slapping it down hard on the surface of his desk. It was the _Nightly Chronicle_, the evening version of our paper. I meandered my way over and glanced at the top headline. I'd been sighted by a group of Muggles. I sighed.

"Five Muggles, Addison! Five!" Dad roared, jabbing a finger at the paper.

"It's not that big of a deal, Dad. We have people to fix that sort of thing," I sighed, flopping down onto a chair in front of his desk, my bag crumbled underneath me uncomfortably but I was too angry to rearrange it. Dad turned an impressive shade of purple.

"Addison, when will it pass through your thick skull that it _is_ a big deal? The Statue of Secrecy is a big deal and you break it so often, it's a joke amongst the wizarding population! You're an embarrassment, Addison. Do you understand that? An embarrassment to this family."

I felt myself snap at his words. Embarrassment? Is that what he honestly thinks of me?

"Well if I'm such a detriment to your precious image why don't you just disown me? Huh? That'll make _everything_ easier, won't it?! Just ship me off to some hut in a secluded area and let me starve to death! Then I won't be your problem anymore," I snapped, planting my palms on the desk and leaning towards him.

"Addison, don't be so dramatic. I'm not shipping you off to be starved." Dad sighed, his face back to a normal color. I opened my mouth to make another sarcastic comment when I stopped. Dad was walking over to a cabinet and pulling open a drawer where he kept miscellaneous junk. He took out an empty cereal box and tapped it with his wand. I gaped at him as it glowed blue.

"If you're not going to abide to the Statue of Secrecy under my rule, maybe you'll follow it under someone else's. I'm sorry it has to be this way, but I did warn you," Dad sighed, coming over and taking my wrist. I was too shocked to stop him and by the time I actually registered that he was in fact sending me away, there was the large pull from behind my bellybutton and we were hurtling through space.


	4. Chapter 3

I hit the ground hard. So hard I could feel my teeth rattle in my jaw and my arm bend in an uncomfortable angle. Fuck, give a girl a warning. I think I hit my head on something. I wrenched open my eyes and attempted to clear the silver dots dancing before them. Usually I'm really good at Portkey landings—I've been doing them since I could stand on my own, but the abruptness of the situation mixed with shock made me not realize we were Porting until I hit the ground. It all happened too fast.

A gentle pair of hands grabbed my upper arms and aided me to a standing position before gently setting me in a chair. "Addison?" they questioned. My vision was still swimming. Now I'm positive I hit my head. I brought a tentative hand up to my forehead and prodded. There was already an egg sized bump above my right eye. Perfect, I hope it doesn't go all black and blue. "Addison?"

"Don't effing call me that," I growled, the words finally funneling to my brain.

"I think she'll be okay," the voice sighed. I blinked and my vision finally came into focus. Dad's face was hovering in front of mine, a concerned look coating his features. When I looked past him I had barely enough time to take in the richly wood paneled walls, map with flashing red dots, and the large mahogany desk strewn with papers before my eyes focused on a tall African American man with a shiny bald head and rather iridescent purple robes. He was peering around Dad with an impassive look on his face. Dad was feeling at the bump on my head, his eyes filled with concern. Unfortunate genetics, really.

"What the fuck, Dad? Could you not warn me we were Porting?" I grumbled, snapping my eyes back to Dad's. They hardened—the concerned look disappearing.

"Language Addison. And I figured placing your hand on a glowing blue object would be warning enough," he hissed, turning around and facing the man behind him. "Thank you very much for doing me such a favor."

"What favor?" I cut in quickly. Dad shot a look back at me for a second before turning back around.

"I figure some outside discipline and rules will do the trick."

"You didn't!" I shrieked, the whole situation finally coming to fruition at those words. "You can't!"

"I had our house elf, Minnie, send her things along. I suppose if anything was forgotten she could simply Owl us and we'll send it along. I've left some extra gold for her to pick up an owl, I'm afraid the one her sister and her shares will be back at home."

"Dad! Where the hell are you leaving me?!" I snapped, jumping from my chair and striding over to him. He didn't even look at me—he just continued speaking to the man like I wasn't right there tugging on his arm. "Will you quit ignoring me?"

"I really can't thank you enough," Dad sighed, finally finishing his explanation of how he wired money over to an account and how I would be given a 20 galleon allowance per month. I stopped tugging then. 20 galleons? I can_ hardly_ live on 30. Dad acknowledged my cease fire and turned to me as the man began to speak for the first time, his deep baritone vibrated through the room and straight to the pit of my stomach.

"It's my thanks to you for being so understanding earlier this week about our fugitives. Head Auror Potter wrapped it up rather nicely but it was only through your cooperation that it was successful," he replied, giving Dad a warm smile and flicking me a hesitant look. "From what you told me, I believe she will be quite an _asset_ to our school. It will be interesting for the students to be able to see another Wizarding culture first hand."

Dad gave him a curt nod and flipped towards me. My jaw was slightly hung open as I realized what exactly was going on. I just couldn't believe it. Honestly—I'd rather have my wand snapped than this. I'm being dramatic of course. I didn't I even know where I was exactly—despite the man's accent being somewhat of a giveaway.

"Dad," I whispered, looking up at him. His face was grim.

"Addison," he started. I automatically opened my mouth to dispute the name but my words dried in my throat and panic was settling around me. "Do you honestly think you've left me a choice?"

"There's always a choice," I snapped. "But this isn't the right one."

"Addison, dear, this is the only one. I'll see you at Christmas—please remember to write your sister. I'm afraid she'll be very upset," he answered curtly, giving me an obligatory kiss on the forehead and walking over to the abandoned cereal box. He tapped it with his wand and it glowed blue.

"Dad! You can't do this to me! Screw Audrey, _I'm_ upset!" I declared, starting over to grab him as he placed a finger upon it. The man behind me put a firm hold on my upper arm and I knew that even if I attempted to wrestle my appendage from his grasp I wouldn't make leeway. He was a rather burly man. And with a blink of my eye Dad whirled into the air and was gone.

I ripped my arm away and the man let go. I wanted to kick something. I wanted to punch something. I wanted to hex my Dad until the next century. How could he? How could he just leave his _daughter_ in a strange place without any sort of explanation? How could he just give up on me? I let out a frustrated grunt and kicked a sharp one to the leg of a chair. Pain shocked up from my toes to my hips but the chair gave a satisfying 'crack' as the one leg collapsed and the chair fell to the floor. I continued to kick the trodden piece of furniture—cursing everything with every time my foot made contact.

Fuck my Dad.

Fuck my sister.

Fuck whoever this dude was.

Fuck the world.

Fuck my Dad's job.

Fuck _everything. _

When I was sure my foot was bleeding and the chair sufficiently destroyed, I collapsed to my knees and put my face in my hands, tugging at the roots of my hair in the frustration that still coursed through my veins. My (rightful) temper tantrum had taken more out of me than I thought. I don't think I could stand if I wanted to. Now that the great adrenalin rush was over I could feel the pain in my foot full force. Oh fuck me now, I probably broke it. There was a throat cleared behind me and I allowed my groan to be muffled. I forgot he was here.

"Now that you're done Addison—"

"Do _not_ call me Addison. I _hate_ the name Addison," I snapped—cutting him off effectively.

"Excuse me. What would you prefer to be called?"

I locked my jaw as the silence stretched over the room and pressed upon my ears. When I couldn't stand the awkwardness anymore, I begrudgingly allowed myself to grumble 'Adder'.

"Well Adder—now that you're quite done. How about _I_ introduce _myself_," the man stated. I still hadn't turned around to face him and I was going to avoid such. I busied myself with ripping off my boot and examining my foot. My sock was stained a bright red—I was right about the bleeding—and with the amount of pain I felt I knew I was right about the breaking. My eyes flicked to the chair, it wasn't recognizable any more. "I am Minister Shacklebolt, the Britain Minister of Magic. And by your rather—erm—colorful rant, I believe you've worked out for yourself exactly why you're here."

"Because my father is a coward that can't face his own problems. If it makes him look bad he heaps it off on someone else," I spat.

"In your view—yes. But I see it as a change of scenery for you," he sighed. I refused to turn around and look at him, but he didn't seemed phased by it. He just continued on speaking to me as if we were having a face-to-face interaction.

"I don't know how you could see _anything_ in regards to me. You don't even know me," I snapped. He mumbled something, something along the lines of what sounded like 'teenagers' and suddenly there was a hand on my shoulder. I roughly jerked it away and sent myself overbalanced and crashing into the pieces of the chair.

"Why don't we get your foot mended and then I can take you to where you'll be staying until the school term begins? You can recuperate," he stated—his voice slightly edgier than before. I looked down at my foot and debated refusing his help, but it really did hurt so I hefted myself to my feet with much difficulty. The splinters of the chair dug into my palms and I could feel a few slivers pierce my skin. Minister Shacklebolt didn't help. I bet I scared him off with the whole shoulder thing. Finally I made my way up and leaned heavily upon my uninjured foot. The Minister handed me my bag and frowned down at the chair before looking up at the man's stoic face. I felt a small smirk grow upon my lips before I reached into the bag and grabbed my wand, mending the chair in one quick motion.

"I know you took it upon yourself to have free reign of magic back home but here we take matters of underage Sorcery rather seriously and underage magic will not be tolerated," he stated—his voice even.

"What are you going to do about it?" I smirked, grinning up at him. Suddenly his hand flew down and he plucked my wand from my fingers before I could even react.

"You'll receive your wand when you board the train for school," he stated, pocketing it and opening the door. I gaped at him.

"That's _mine_!" I snapped, attempting to rush over and tackle this six foot whatever man. Man the pain must be getting to my head. I lost my balance from my one good leg and started careening forward—this time the Minister caught and righted me before striding towards the door.

"I'm afraid I'm not adept enough in Healing to aid you in that foot of yours. That's beyond any _Episkey_ I can do," he started, strolling right along at an even pace. It took me a few seconds to realize he wasn't going to slow down his pace for me to catch up. I scowled at the back of his head and debated hurling the decorative marble ball that was resting on the shelf beside me at the back of his head.

Probably a bad idea in the long run—considering I don't think Dad's position could save me from murdering a minister. Plus I probably couldn't throw something that heavy thatfar, and while I did have a good arm on me, it was honestly no Quaffle. The minister paused at the mouth of the hallway and shot me an impatient look so I swallowed my curses and hobbled down to him; at this point I was avoiding being a pain in the ass mostly because I wanted to get my foot fixed. It fucking hurt.

"As I was saying—I'm going to transport you down to the Auror department where a full time Healer resides and after that you will be sent to Head Auror Potter. He will assign you your—guides—for until the school term starts."

"My guides," I snorted as he ushered me into a gold gated elevator. "Don't you mean babysitters?"

"If you wish to put it that way—yes. Now I suggest you hold on. The lifts are difficult to ride with two good legs," he sighed, holding onto a leather strap hanging down from the ceiling. I eyed it with a scowl—like I would be able to reach that high—and suddenly was thrown against the back wall of the elevator as it shot straight backwards. Shacklebolt merely reached up and pulled down on the strap so it became elongated and handed it to me as we were thrown sharply to the right. I clutched onto it for my life and clamped my teeth tight. The major motion along with the ever increasing pain in my foot was causing me to become rather nauseous. Suddenly the elevator stopped throwing me forward and on my face. What the hell? Was it 'beat Adder to a pulp day'?

I only just managed to hoist myself up and out of the elevator before it zoomed away and looked ahead to see the Minister's shiny robes whip around a corner. When I gimped my way along to him he was waiting in front of a lime green door—the same color that Healer's usually wore. There was a small brass name plaque on the door that read 'Healer Sabrina, personal Magical Maladies and Injuries Expert to the Ministry' in curly cursive. The Minister gave a healthy rap on the door and it swung open.

"Did those bloody trainees curse each other again? I swear this group is stupider than a daft donkey," a small harried woman groaned, starting to barge out the door. She paused though and blushed furiously. "Although I'm sure you picked them for a reason."

"They have their moments," the Minister shrugged—taking me by the shoulder and gently edging me forward. "No this matter, is her."

"In the name of Albus Dumbledore! What happened to this poor girl?" she gasped, taking my chin in her hand and giving me a sharp once over. "She looks like she got in a fight with a hippogriff and lost. Not a fitting look really."

"_She_ can hear, you know," I growled, looking up at her with a steely expression. The woman blinked once and continued to look me over.

"It wasn't so much a hippogriff as a chair and some bad Porting. Can you fix her up so I can get her to Potter?"

"Of course—come on in dear," she cooed at me like I was five before ushering me into the room. She patted a small bed and I sat down, elated to get pressure off of my foot. Quickly she buzzed around me—healing the (supposed) bruise the size of a bludger on my forehead, removing the fat splinters from my palm, refilling a chipped tooth, and finally patching the bones in my foot whole. It took around a half hour and I was beginning to fall more irritable at her buzzing around me and making stupid little comments.

"Am I done?" I questioned harshly, probably more harsh than I originally intended. She blanched a bit and handed me back my shoe with a small nod.

"Yes—of course. Just take this potion tonight so that tooth doesn't become infected," she declared, handing me a small bottle of yellow liquid. I slipped it into my bag and mumbled a small 'thank you'. She did remove all my pain, after all.

"You're quite welcome, dear. You're free to go," she smiled, opening the door for me. I trudged out—dragging my feet and not looking forward to coming in contact with that _man_. I looked around, scanning over all the cubicles and huffed a sigh. He wasn't even waiting for me anymore. How rude.

"Oi—you Adder?" a voice called out. I snapped over to look in the direction and noticed a tall red haired man striding over. I frowned. "I'm supposed to take you to Harry—or erm—Auror Potter," he announced, stopping in front of me. I deepened my scowl.

"Right then—the quite type. Let's—well, let's get you going, yeah?" he sighed, clearing his throat uncomfortably and starting through the maze of mini offices. "I'm Ron Weasley—suppose you're supposed to call me Auror Weasley, huh? Anyways, heard you're joining school in September. My kids go there—well one does. The other one will be going the year after. So does Harry's—erm—Head Auror Potter's children, two of them. And all of our other nieces and nephews go there too—again besides Lily and Hugo, too little, see. Two will be in your year—suppose you can tag along with them."

I curled my lip at him and let out an indignant snort.

"Do you always talk this much?"

He blinked at me for a moment and stopped walking.

"Just filling dead air," he shrugged before starting up again. I noticed the heavy edge to his shoulders and the red tinge to the back of his neck as I followed along.

"Don't _suppose_ I'll be making any friends since I won't be staying for long," I spat back. His shoulders tensed further.

"Heard it's not much of your choice. Well here we are—just go on in," he grumbled. I distinctly heard him call me a rather impolite name as I shuffled into the office. It was smaller than the Minister's, but the décor was similar. The only difference was the explosion of pictures all over the room. The man that walked me over was in a good many of them, smiling and waving at the camera or arguing with a bushy haired woman.

"You must be Adder," the man behind the desk grinned. I merely scowled. I don't think I've scowled this much in my life. I sized up this new guy—tall, scrawny, disgustingly messy black hair, glasses—was this guy honestly the Head Auror of Britain? Talk about lack of security. "Welcome to England."

"Wish I wasn't," I shot back. He didn't seem phased.

"I suppose you would like to know about your school a bit," he barreled on. I made a face to show I wanted just the opposite. "It's called Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You'll be a seventh year—of course. I got your transcripts and courses and you'll be continuing in your same classes and your house will be decided once you reach the grounds. Term starts in about three days on September first and I've got you a room at The Leaky Cauldron for the time being. You'll be able to obtain your supplies easily that way. Any questions?"

"Can I go home?"

"No," he shot back automatically as he pressed the tip of his wand upon a small box receded into the desk top. "Can I get Franklin and Dubbins, please?"

I could hear his voice echo out into the floor beyond and suddenly the door swung open to reveal two robed men that couldn't be older than twenty-two. The eyed me—their eyes alighting slightly as I gave them a simpering smile. I might as well charm my babysitters early on in the game—it makes it easier in the end.

"This is Steven Dubbins and Miles Franklin—they're both final trainee Aurors and are assigned to be at your side until school resumes," Potter explained, pointing them out briefly.

"So you two have babysitting duties, huh? Well I promise I won't be too naughty," I purred, looking up at them through my lashes. Both of them blanched slightly.

"Remember you two, this is your final exam," Potter warned, making them sober up slightly. The taller of the two kept sliding his eyes in my direction. Potter cleared his throat and he jumped to attention. "I've been informed she doesn't—well she handles authority in a rather different manner so just keep your eyes on her. She doesn't have a wand so it shouldn't be much trouble."

"In other words I'm quite sneaky and hate doing what I'm told so don't let me get away. I'm a dog, get me on the leash," I snorted, shooting the Head Auror a contemptuous look. A grin flitted across his face and he quickly glanced down at the stack of parchment on his desk.

"You're excused," he stated finally. "And Miss Ryan, please enjoy your visit."

"Doubtful," I snarled. Potter hefted a loud sigh as his two little monkeys' opened the door and ushered me out of the room. I followed out at a slower pace, contemplating my options. With the looks they kept shooting me, I was thinking that the seducing route might be the way to go. With a slight skip, I edged my way between them, giving a covert glance a piece.

"So—tell me about yourselves," I cooed, looking up between my lashes. One of them stiffened and stuffed his hands in his pockets.

"You're not going to trick us, miss," he declared. I rolled my eyes.

"Who say's I'm here to trick you," I questioned, grabbing tight to the strap hanging from the ceiling.

"Head Auror Potter was quite clear on his warning," the second one coughed. I really should figure out which was which.

"Yes, your Head Auror is very in tune to my personality. So which one of you is Miles and which one is Steve?" I questioned, running a finger up each of their arms in turn. The tall blonde one visibly blanched and averted his eyes from my face. Merlin, it was easy to make these guys uncomfortable. You'd think an Auror would have more tolerance of things of this caliber.

"I'm Miles," the brunette one coughed, raising his hand slightly. I grinned at him.

"Well it's very nice to meet you. I look forward to touring this new country with you," I sighed, skipping out in front of them as the lift clanged to a stop. "I'm lucky really—getting two such capable trainees such as yourselves and you're quite handsome too. But excuse me for being so forward, it's in my nature and I just can't help myself."

They both blinked at me for a second or two—clearly confused as to what route I was going.

"Well—uh, thank you. That's very nice of you to say," Steven coughed, putting a hand on my lower back and guiding me towards a hallway lined with ornate fireplaces. "Would you like to just head to your room or start shopping for school supplies right off?"

Hook, line, and sinker.

"You mean I get a choice in my endeavors?" I questioned, widening my eyes innocently. They both smiled fondly.

"Why wouldn't you? You're a guest, yeah?" Miles questioned, stepping into the fireplace. I pondered his words for a moment as he was sucked up into the flames. They must not know I'm here against my will. They must just think I'm to be kept an eye on because my father is a great politician in an allied community. Absolutely perfect.

"It's The Leakey Cauldron—just pop out when you see Miles," Steven instructed, telling the fire such, and smiling warmly. I gave him a coy grin and stepped into the flames, waggling my fingers before it could suck me into the Floo Network. I landed lightly in a dimly lit bar. It was packed at the moment—pretty much every table and bar stool occupied by witches and wizards weighted down by packages and bags.

"Right then," Steven stated from behind me. I turned around and raised my eyebrows slightly as he and Miles convened at my sides. "Would you like to see your room?"

"That would be wonderful—I believe I would like to change." I replied kindly, holding in my laughter as they both jumped to attention. One strode over to the bar while the next did a rather obvious search of the room. Head Auror Potter much not think them very capable if this is their final exam. He's probably humoring them.

"Right—Mrs. Longbottom is getting her key and the booklist McGonagall sent over. I'll go to Gringotts and get some money from her account. Meet in front of the bank in 0800 hours?" Miles questioned sharply. I burst out laughing but covered it as a cough. I think my assumptions about them being the bottom of the training class was correct.

"You do know 0800 hours is 8 am?" I questioned with a suppressed smirk.

"It's code?" Miles coughed, his neck flushing red as he hurried out of the bar. A woman with a round face and yellow hair came winding over through the tables to us. She was smiling brightly and holding an envelope and an old style key on a red ribbon.

"Hullo there! Welcome! You must be Adder. I've got you in Room 3A. It's got a lovely view of the alley and you can hardly hear the train from the Muggle side of the street," she chirped as she walked purposefully towards a set of stairs to the side.

"Sounds just wonderful," I grumbled, putting an extra edge to my words to show my dislike. She didn't seem to pick up on it though because she continued on down the hall and stopped at a door. With a flick of her wrist it swung open to reveal a simple hotel room. My trunk was resting at the foot of the bed already and I could barely help myself from sighing.

"Just make yourself comfortable and pull that rope if you need anything. It alerts me downstairs," Mrs. Longbottom grinned, doubling back and heading down the stairs.

"I'll just leave you to change then," Steven grinned, shutting the door behind him. I pressed my ear up against the wood and frowned. He was standing directly outside. I strode across the room and peered out the window. It opened out to a crowded street below. Anyone could see me if I attempted to fly out on my broom, plus the window was too small for me to fit through and without my wand I had no way to widen it. I heaved a sigh and debated kicking my trunk in frustration but the pain was still too fresh from my earlier bout of aggression. Instead I opened my trunk and shifted through the neatly organized items inside to find something—well _suitable _to wear. As I was pulling out a rather lacy bra (very important to my master plan) I caught a glimpse of myself in the mirror and almost recoiled. I forgot I dyed my hair red. Was that really today?

Shaking off the regret I yanked on my under clothes and a pair of black lace shorts before pulling on an asymmetrical gray crop top and my leather motorcycle jacket. I was just tugging on the knee high gray leather boots when there was a knock on the door.

"Are you ready yet, miss?" Steven questioned from behind the wood.

"Just a moment, Steve darling," I cooed, straightening up the liner around my eyes. The blue of my eyes popped gracefully and I grinned at my reflection, musing up my hair and wishing it had body to it. It was just so pin straight. I looped my bag over my shoulder and opened the door, strutting out and effectively ignoring Steven. I could hear his footfalls behind me and he caught up, placing a hand on my shoulder.

"You're ready then?" he questioned. I avoided rolling my eyes. No, I'm walking downstairs for the hell of it. I guess he picked up on the obviousness of his question because he cleared his throat awkwardly and motioned for me to walk ahead of him. We pushed out into the street and I blinked in surprise. I expected it to be dark outside, it was rounding on midnight when I made my escape back home, but here it was bright and cheery out—I assumed sometime mid-morning. It was also packed with people. I grinned to myself. Could these people make it any easier for me? Steven was directly on my heels as we wound our way through the thick crowd towards a snowy white building set into the fork of two streets. I could see Miles searching the faces suspiciously as we walked up to him.

"There you are! I thought you might've been attacked," he stated in a low voice.

"Because I have such a hit on my head," I piped up.

"Of course you don't. Miles is just being paranoid," Steven remarked quickly. I raised my eyebrows at him in a cool manner.

"I would suggest you lose that point of view—you are trying to become Aurors, no?" I quipped, examining my fingernails. I heard Steven clear his throat uncomfortably. I took a moment while the two of them were conversing in low voices to peek around the long street. It was narrow and flanked with storefronts on either sides and from our position we were at the very tip of the street, giving me ample view of my surroundings.

"So we can go get your uniform, your books, or potion supplies, or even your owl," Steven was prattling on. I gave him a short look and his words died down. I bit my lip and looked at him through my eyelashes.

"Why don't we split up? I feel the time catching up to me and would like to get this done as soon as possible," I replied with a gusty sigh. They looked uncomfortable at this prospect so I just fluttered my eyelashes at them. Finally Miles shrugged and handed a sheet of paper to Steven.

"I'll go to Eyelops with her and you hit Botts," he stated, heading into the crowd. I followed at a leisurely pace, testing how many people I could get between us before Miles would stop and hurry back to me. It wasn't enough so I suppressed a sigh and followed him into a dim shop that was filled to the brim with dark and rustling cages. I looked around at the winding shelves and turned abruptly to Miles.

"You know what sort of owl I've always wanted?"

Miles opened his mouth to reply but I plowed on, not giving him opportunity to answer.

"A completely snowy one. Like pure white, nothing else. Will you check that side of the store while I cover over here," I questioned, pointing to the corner that had the tallest shelves of owls. Miles looked skeptical so I bit lightly on my lower lip and bent over to tug up my boot, making sure my top gaped just so. When I slowly came back up I noticed his eyes had been lingering where my chest was so I allowed a simpering smile and brushed past him to the opposite end—making sure to let my fingertips brush along _just_ the right places. The effect was instantaneous, he grinned (in what he probably thought was a charming manner) at me and disappeared behind the shelves. Why is the male species so easy to manipulate?

I waited a second or two to make sure he wasn't going to pop back out and slipped after a rather plump woman out into the busy street. I didn't slow my pace until I was sure I made a good amount of distance between the stores and I, and that I was sufficiently hidden in the crowd. I didn't have my wand so I didn't know my exact plan—but all I needed for some time was thankfully in my bag. So I took a deep breath and made my way down the street—contemplating to myself the options I could pursue.

* * *

**A/A: I had a lot of trouble with this chapter. It just seemed to drag along—but I promise that this is going to be the last Adder-centric exposition chapter. Fred joins in the next one, which you should get tonight because I finally have time to update! Enjoy!**

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	5. Chapter 4

**A/F: Note that the language in this story will be beyond that of my previous stories. It's that way for a reason—to mold to the idea of the story I'm attempting to shape. But I will kindly remind you that it is **

'**Rated M' for a reason. I hope I don't turn you all off because of that. And again—bear with Adder. She's rough and manipulative for a reason. It's a strange sensation, hating a protagonist, but that's the point of her. She's not only the protagonist but her own antagonist as well. It's her own demons that will add the conflict within the story with Fred staying as a constant power. So just try to read her with a grain of salt.**

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**

* * *

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," James sighed from over my shoulder. I shot him an annoyed look and turned back to survey the chess board. Hugo was sitting patiently across from me, his face completely impassive. I motioned a few ways with my fingers, muttering under my breath, and James made another sound of disapproval.

"Will you back off James? I'm playing, not you," I sighed, turning to shoot my cousin an annoyed look. James held up his hands innocently as I furrowed my brow in concentration.

"Oi!" Someone shouted from behind me.

"I swear if one more person gives me advice on how to play—I'll curse them!" I declared, flipping around. Dad was standing there with his arms folded, an annoyed and slightly amused expression on his face.

"Stop skiving off your job Fred and get your ars—er—behind to the counter. We're swamped and you're frolicking through daisies with Hugo over here," Dad declared, giving me one more warning glance and turning to wind his way towards the backroom. I huffed and turned back to the board. He was right, I probably should be helping because we were completely swarmed with the returning to Hogwarts crowd and it wasn't even noon yet. But—I was the first person in our family, besides Uncle Ron, that actually had a chance to beat Hugo in chess for once and I wasn't going to back down on that. Finally I ordered my top choice to move and yanked my lurid magenta apron from the back of the chair next to me.

"Shout when it's my go again," I declared, grabbing the basket of items that needed to be restocked and hopping over the half gate separating the counter from the rest of the shop. I was currently attempting to stack the rather precarious window display of Skiving Snackboxes, freezing a few that were about to fall with the flick of my wand, when the loud snore (the new door alert—courtesy of Uncle Charlie last Christmas) sounded from my right.

"Welcome to Weasley Wizard Wheezes—where a laugh is worth a thousand Galleons. Feel free to browse. Two sickles off the Skiving Starter Kit for any Hogwarts first year," I droned automatically, not even looking over at the newest customer. The door went off every couple of seconds and there were only so many times one could utter that horrid sentence with a good attitude. I should change it just for means of entertainment. Whoever came in let out a small snort but before I could tell them off out of annoyance they were weaving through the crowd of people queuing up.

I just caught a glimpse of long fire red hair and was currently trying to decipher what cousin it was when someone rammed into me—sending the display sprawling into the mannequin that held the newest prank clothing (disappearing trousers) into the large hot pink cut out of a witch doting the amortentia perfume. It all came down with a crash. James let out a cheer from his perch on the counter and started applauding—the store slowly picking up along with him. I rolled my eyes and snuck a rude hand gesture in his direction—but bowed for the sake of the customers.

There was a tug on my apron as I was starting to repair the mess with a flick of my wand. I paused mid-sweeping motion and looked down at Hugo who was blinking up at me sagely.

"Check mate," he declared, grinning slightly.

"No way—you stinking git. You did not win," I announced, abandoning the display and quickly hopping the divider to peer at the chess board. The kid did it again. "I can't believe it. You're _ten_!"

"I actually won three moves back. But good game, Freddy. I think I'm gonna go get a snack upstairs," he remarked with a shrug. James was practically rolling on top of the counter as he laughed.

"Oh shove off before I curse you," I grumbled, flicking my wand absentmindedly at the display. "I'd like to see _you_ get that far."

"Fred!" Dad declared again. I turned towards his voice, ignoring James' snickers, he was pointing at the display. I followed his finger and burst out laughing. Somehow I magicked it _all_ upside down. "That's brilliant. Keep it."

"I completely meant to do that. It's all in the design," I laughed, shouting over the rumble of voices.

"Your cheek will get you places in life, son," Dad laughed, turning to a small boy and motioning towards the back where we kept the muggle products. I hefted a sigh and leaned my forearms against the counter. Scanning the store, I waved briefly to a few of my fellow Gryffindor seventh years and one of my best mates, Callen Parks.

He was with his 'girl of the week'; a languid, curvy girl with long blonde hair. I gave him an impressed shrug as he motioned to her and made a lewd face behind her back. Sometimes Callen is a tad bit extreme when it comes to dating and girls and I certainly don't agree with eighty percent of his actions—but we've been friends since our first train ride over to Hogwarts and that kind of history can't really be disregarded despite disagreements with lifestyles. Especially when you shared a dorm. I was only going to have to put up with him for a final year. It's going to be especially difficult since Ryan got signed as a reserve on the Wales Stingrays at the end of last season. He was usually the one that kept me from wanting to murder Callen in his sleep. I turned towards James and gave him a hopeful look, only to be returned with one of flat disagreement. I haven't even said anything yet.

"I'm already over my shift—wanna take it?" I questioned. James snorted and gave me an incredulous look.

"I would never work today. Not on my life," he replied, lounging back on his hands. "You haven't even been working a full shift, you lazy blighter."

"Well you just wanna go snog Kaylie when she shows," I shot back. James raised his eyebrows at me and shrugged a shoulder.

"Haven't seen her in a week, you know. There's no need to be jealous just because you don't have a bird to snog."

"I have birds falling at my feet," I replied, straightening up and puffing out my chest.

"Deflate your head dear, the ceilings are awful high and it'd be a pity to have to leave you up there during the rush," Mum declared dryly as she exited the stairs that lead up to the flat.

"I only speak the truth Mum," I replied as I followed her out from behind the counter. I noticed a hint of red hair from the corner of my eye and I discretely shot a tripping jinx in the direction. They gave a small shriek and hit the ground—taking a rather small boy with them.

"Fred! Did you just jinx a customer!?" Mum gasped, rushing past me. I turned and looked then and grimaced. I saw the hair and assumed they were related to me—but in actuality it was a girl around my age. A rather _attractive_ girl around my age. And I just trip jinxed her thinking it was my cousin. Way to make an impression, Freddy.

"Oh bugger me—I'm so sorry! I thought you were my cousin and I was trying to prove to Mum here that I didn't have an inflated head and that girls really did fall at my feet. Anyways—I'm sorry," I groaned, holding out my hand to her. She pushed her long hair out of her face and her ice blue eyes flashed in my direction.

"If that's how you treat your family," she muttered. Oh for the love of Merlin, she wasn't even from around here. Her American accent was completely evident and she didn't look too happy with my joke. I shook my hand a bit—reiterating that I was in fact trying to make up for it—but she refused it and clambered to her feet on her own, crossing her arms over her chest. Nope—not happy at all.

"Take care of it Fredrick—it was your doing," Mum sang, scampering off. Clever, woman, clever. An angry female is an adequate punishment for the most horrifying offenses.

"Again—sorry. I assumed you were Molly or something. I figured it would be a laugh. I say birds fall at my feet and look! There's a bird actually falling at my feet," I went on.

"I don't think you're helping the situation," James declared, coming over to us. "Excuse Fred, he has less tact than me I think. Well maybe Uncle Ron beats you, but that's beside the point."

"Look—forget whatever you're going to offer me. The only thing I ask of you for being so rude is if two dudes come in here—blonde and brunette. I wasn't here," she replied, completely ignoring James.

"Why?" James asked bluntly. I rolled my eyes. And _I_ have lack of tact.

"Because they're stalking me and I don't want to be raped," she answered in a deadpanned voice, finally turning on James. "Frankly—it's really none of your business. I _could_ sue after—". She stopped mid sentence and narrowed her eyes a bit as she examined James.

"Shit, you're related to that dude in the ministry," she groaned. James and I exchanged a look.

"We're related to like five people in the ministry—specifics might help," I laughed.

"The head Auror or whatever," she remarked, with a wave of her hand. And then she turned on her heel and started for the door without even a goodbye. I immediately started after her and caught her hand in mine. She stopped and blinked at me in surprised before looking down at our hands. I expected her to blush (many had in this situation) but instead she just gave me a rather flirty smile.

"Why does it matter if James is related to Uncle Harry?" I questioned—dropping our hands. She flicked some hair over her shoulder and looked at me from beneath her eyelashes. It hit me like a ton of bricks and I blinked stupidly for a second before regaining my bearings. Well that was a 360 of character.

"So you're related to him too?" she questioned, plating a hand on her hip and raising the hem of her top to examine it with the other, bearing a small strip of tanned skin underneath.

"Well yeah—note the 'Uncle' in 'Uncle Harry'."

"It's no big deal. I just got brought to him as I came in this morning," she shrugged, rolling her shoulders back slightly. I took a second to appreciate what she was doing before flicking my gaze back to her face. "What can I say—the naughtier the better."

"You're all talk," I replied automatically. There was no way an American girl of this age would be seeing the Head Auror for any other reason beside being welcomed to the country.

"Wouldn't you like to know, darling. But as of right now—you're wasting my valuable time for a lucrative getaway and since the people of this lovely establishment can turn me in to the very people I'm trying to get away from, I think it's time for me to slip into the crowd outside again. Whether you believe my story or not. Pity really, you're quite cute. I could've had fun here for a bit," she declared, running her fingers up my arm and then turning to leave. I furrowed my brow in confusion. Never had I been insulted (at least I'm pretty sure I was) and hit on at the same time. The girl was once again, making her way towards the door when she froze and flipped around quickly.

"Shit—okay change of plans. You tripped me, you owe me. Now show me the back way out," she demanded, glancing over her shoulder as the door gave a loud snort. She swore again and ducked behind a grouping of three boys. They looked slightly alarmed—but she gave them the same smile she shot my way and they all immediately froze and grinned goofily back.

"What's Franklin and Dubbins doing here?" James questioned, coming along side of me. He looked back towards the girl and then at the two trainees that were under his dad and a look of comprehension dawned over his features. He grinned slightly and raised his eyebrows at me.

"I'll honestly do anything for you to hide me at this point," she hissed, tugging at the edge of my apron. She was crouched on the ground—hiding behind the barrel of fireworks you can buy one at a time instead of the kits.

"Loose are we? I don't know if I roll that way. I might enjoy the substance of a situation. We could have different views here," I whispered, stopping down to her level, and waggling my eyebrows so she picked up on exactly what I was imply. She rolled her eyes and gave a half sort of smile.

"Wouldn't you like to know if it's actually true? If you play your cards right, I might comply. Now are you going to be my savior or what?"

I straightened up to look at the two Aurors—they were talking to Dad, handing him a photograph. Dad scratched his head, revealing the hole where his ear used to be and scanned the room. His eyes rested on me for a moment and then he was pushing his way over.

"Crawl straight back and hide behind the counter. There's a set of stairs that lead up to a flat. My other cousin should be up there doing something—just tell him I sent you. Now go, my Dad's walking over," I sighed, this whole prospect was too entertaining to pass up. She obviously wasn't very dangerous or fully trained Aurors would be on her case. So why not take advantage of a possibly very beneficial situation? It was just too unlike me to turn her in—this was a seriously mischievous situation flying straight at me. Plus she was hot. I would be crazy not to see where it led.

She shot me a toothy smile and swept the back way, going behind Dad and in the direction I pointed, just as the three people leveled up with me.

"Sup Dad. Miles, Steven," I nodded—suppressing my grin.

"Hey—have you seen this girl?" Dad questioned, handing me the photo. James was at my side now—sending me incredulous looks. "She's the American Minister of Magic's eldest daughter. Apparently she's coming to Hogwarts for her final year and these two lost her while shopping for supplies."

Miles and Steven looked appropriately sheepish as Dad gave them a flat look. James was eyeing me out of the corner of his eyes as I took the 'time' to glance at the photo.

"I trip jinxed her mistaking her for a fellow Weasley like ten minutes ago. But I comp'd her a free Wonder Witch product and she went on her merry way," I grinned. The Minister's daughter. This just got far more interesting. James was giving me an flabbergasted look. Dad looked torn between scolding me and laughing, so he merely shrugged and handed the picture back to the two.

"We'll keep an eye out. I'm sure she just got swept away in the crowd," Dad sighed, going back off towards the stock room. James socked me on the arm after we were alone and I jumped, aiming one for his head.

"What are you doing?" he questioned hesitantly, after appropriately dodging my blow. I shrugged and gave him a cheeky grin, untying my apron in the process.

"She seemed desperate. Who wouldn't be with those two dung for brains tailing her around all day? She's probably flocked with bodyguards at all times being a Minister's daughter. She obviously wants a bit of fun, which I'm happy to oblige with. I'll get her back to them eventually. Take my shift will you?" I questioned, looping the apron around his neck. James gave me a pitiful look before letting out a rather loud snort.

"You just think she's hot," he declared, tying it regardless. I gave him a huge grin and started back towards the stairs to the flat.

"I'm not going to deny that's not a plus," I admitted, pausing at the doorjamb.

"Yeah, yeah, just go off and be a man-slag already," James laughed. I frowned at him—yes my reputation precedes me at school. I've never been one for settling down—but I always at least take them out on a date or two before getting to the snogging and such. I didn't take it very farther than a bit beyond innocent acts. Not like Callen at least—who was easily the worst slag I've ever known. "I'm kidding! Wipe that look off your fat gob, Fred."

"I'm just trying to be hospitable. She is new to the country and is going to our school," I declared. James rolled his eyes and gave me a knowing look. "Okay, it doesn't hurt to get a jump start on all the rest of the guys. If I don't get to her Callen will and I've made a point to never get Cal's sloppy seconds. I respect women too much to jump on that sinking ship. And I'm far more of a gentlemen than Cal is. At least I buy them a few meals and treat them like humans; not walking tits with lips."

"That was a rather crass but accurate description of Callen. But then again—he's your mate not mine." James laughed, turning away from me and towards a customer. I grinned and started up the stairs as Hugo was coming down. He gave me a weary look.

"She's not very nice," he commented automatically.

"That's just because I'm not there to make everything funnier," I laughed, ruffling his head. He gave me a doubtful look and slipped past, leaving me gazing up at the door and contemplating what I would encounter upstairs. Hugo is a very blunt judge of character and _sometimes_ sees things that others don't pick up. Eh—nothing like giving it the 'ol trial.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

I quickly lighted up the stairs, pausing briefly once I was completely out of sight of the store so I could catch my breath. I must say—I was surprised. I totally expected this boy to turn me in. He was blood related to the very establishment that was attempting to pent me up, yet he completely came to my aide when he didn't even have to. I forget there are decent people in the world. It could be guilt from jinxing me or it could be a reaction to my seduction techniques. Who knows—he might be on his way up to take advantage of me right now. I was slightly laughing to myself at the thought of _any_ guy that even briefly _thought_ about taking advantage of me (and how it would probably end rather badly on their side) as I pushed open the door.

The apartment was small—a living room and a kitchen in one large room and a hallway off to the side—and rather shabby. The couch was well worn in and there were comic books, brooms, Quidditch equipment, and school supplies strewn around the room in haphazard piles. There was a smallish boy curled up on the end of the sofa idly flipping through a comic book. He looked up as I shut the door, eyeing me with big wide eyes. He scrunched his nose, which was smattered with more freckles than I could count, and automatically went back to his reading.

"Who're you?" he questioned, not looking up from the page. "Uncle George says customers aren't supposed to come up here."

"Hello to you too, kid," I snorted, drifting into the room and examining a few framed pictures on a bookshelf. Not only were the two men that I met in the ministry in it but the guy from the shop and his dark haired cousin. Now that I had the picture in front of me I could really see the resemblance between the dark haired boy and the Head Auror and this small boy on the couch and the red haired man that brought me to the office (Westley?). "I'm not here to buy anything. Your cousin told me to come up."

"James or Fred? 'Cause usually Uncle George tells me not to listen to a thing they tell me. They like to try and be funny. They don't always achieve," he remarked. I glanced at him. How old was this kid?

"It was the tan one with the dark hair and freckles," I replied, crossing my arms and really looking at him. He must be the one that's too young to go to school.

"That's Fred. His Dad owns the shop, that's Uncle George. Fred practically lives in this flat during the summer. That's why it's so messy," the boy stated, closing his comic and gently setting it on the table in front of him.

"I can see your Dad taught you the art of stating information that I don't really need to know," I half laughed. The boy didn't respond, but merely examined me like he was looking into my very soul. It was unnerving and I knew even as I compared him to his father, it wasn't even true. This kid was just telling me basic information that I probably should know and nothing more.

"I don't really know how you know my Dad but I'm going to go back downstairs because you're not too nice," he declared finally. I blinked. That was blunt.

"What's your name, kid?"

"Hugo," he replied as he pulled open the door.

"I'm sorry. That's an unfortunate name," I snorted. He stopped and looked at me again before shrugging.

"I'm okay with it."

And he was off down the stairs. I listened to him stop midway down and hold a short conversation with someone. I took the time to examine the broomstick in the corner. It was decent—heavier, probably either a Beater's or a Keeper's broom. The steps continued up the steps a few minutes later and the boy, Fred apparently, entered the room.

"See you lost the dorky apron," I sighed, continuing my snooping of the apartment.

"It's the uniform. Dad and his twin thought it'd be hilarious to pick the one color that clashed horrible with their hair," he shrugged, plopping down on the couch. I could feel his eyes watching me as I made my way around the room, stopping finally across from him. His arm was stretched languidly across the back of the couch and he was clearly appraising me.

"Are you done undressing me with your eyes?" I questioned, staring him straight in the eye. He didn't even falter.

"I wasn't doing anything of the sort. Good to know you think that highly of me though," he started, leaning forward and resting his elbows on his knees. "Truthfully I was wondering why the American Minister's daughter would come to take one year at a foreign school."

I blinked. Oh—he's good. I wasn't even going to begin to try and figure out how he knew the rest of the details—because in all actuality it was probably the two idiots that were assigned to keep an eye on me. So much for keeping my presence a secret.

"Change of scenery, as your delightful Minister would say," I answered after contemplating my options.

"Kingsley? So not only have you been through the Head Auror but the Minister himself—you really must be something," he laughed. I paused for a moment. This boy was odd. He was close enough to call the Minister by his first name and was related to the Head Auror. Maybe I was flirting with too much danger than I could handle. He could screw me over at any given second. "So—Ministerette, got a proper name?"

"Would you like to know," I snorted, plopping down on the coffee table in front of him. He really was quite cute, with skin the color of perfect toast and a light smattering of freckles across his straight nose. His jaw was strong, his smile bright, and his dark hair tousled in perfect waves. But it was his eyes that really got me—a clear blue that had this certain spark. I couldn't quite put my finger on it and I couldn't tell if it was mischievous or just the way the light hit them. I have to say—I actually found myself attracted to him. It was a small shock to my system—usually going through guys as a tool to further myself or meet my needs. There usually wasn't much attraction involved—merely the knowledge of them being good looking or not.

"I _would_ like to know—it's why I asked," he shrugged. "I mean it's not every day I meet a ginger outside my family. There's so many of us that any ginger is usually related to me in one way or another."

I frowned. Ginger? Who's he calling a ginger? I guess he picked up on my confused distaste because he leaned forward, taking a lock of my hair between two of his fingers, and tucking it behind my ear. Oh shit, I keep forgetting I don't have dark hair anymore.

"Your hair, love, ginger is in reference to your hair color."

"I know what it means," I snapped, leaning back so he wasn't in such close proximity. He hadn't moved after he brushed my hair back, merely gazing at me intently while his face hovered inches in front of mine. "And haven't you ever heard of personal space?"

He smirked and settled back against the couch again, raising a single eyebrow in my direction. I didn't like how this was going. He had too much control with the situation and it was unnerving. I'm the one that controls guys. I have the power in whatever relationship I decide to pursue—but I wasn't fazing him with my standoffish ways, he just seemed to find them humorous. Well you know what?—two can fucking play this game. If he's going to attempt to throw me off balance while playing the 'game of seduction' I was going to jump right in as well; only I'm going to win. I don't take well to losing at a game I've so perfectly mastered.

There was a few seconds of tense silence—one could only assume we were sizing each other up, it definitely was what I was doing. I was going to have to revamp my strategy because obviously he was smarter than the average male I encountered. The true question was what was to gain from this game I was determined to win. The logical answer was simply that I won—it was satisfying to know that I could succeed in what I put my mind to. But a part of me wanted to include more in the package—though I will settle for just doing so to make more enemies here. The more hated I was, the faster I was out of here—the fact that he had high connections throughout the government helped with the cause as well.

There was a sudden thundering on the stairs—a normal person would break apart like lightening, not wanting to be caught in such a close position. But I was anything _but _normal. Instead I edged my booted calf over to the side of his leg and brushed it against it, gauging his reaction as I did so. He merely raised his eyebrows as the door slammed open and what I loved to deem 'the Adonis god' barged into the room.

This boy was chiseled and muscled in all the right places with sweeping blonde hair and sharp hazel eyes. They often range on the extremely cocky side of the personality gauge and tend to be total players. In my opinion, the most enjoyable to break. His eyes lighted on us and he gave a suggestive grin.

"Sorry mate, didn't know you were hosting company," he stated, keeping his eyes trained on me.

"Not really—just giving Ministerette here a place to breathe away from body guards," Fred shrugged, moving his leg away (but not before running the toe of his sneaker inconspicuously up my calf. "Ministerette, this is Callen. He too is a seventh year at Hogwarts. Ignore every word he says to you, it's just a ploy to get into your knickers."

"You wound me, Fred. Wound me. What kind of impression are we giving our guest here? Now—I'm not daft so I assume that with the pet name you've been given your brother, slash husband, slash boyfriend, slash father is a Minister of Magic elsewhere." He stated to me, walking straight over and slinging an arm around my shoulder.

"Ah—that's where I believe you're wrong. I _do_ consider you daft because Fred here guessed the correct answer without the multiple choice problem," I stated dryly, watching Fred's face out of the corner of my eye. I could only handle one game at a time—but that doesn't mean that Callen here couldn't join in for a round or two.

"I've always been the smarter one," Fred shrugged, narrowing his eyes slightly at the burly dude next to me. Ah—the jealous type. It's subtle but the eyes always give it away. "Where's your newest venture?"

"Who, Amie? She went back to France like five minutes ago. Beauxbatons sixth year. Completely choice and such a perfect venture. Here for a week and I never have to see her again," Callen declared wistfully.

"You're a disgusting excuse for a human being who will never find love in life," Fred stated dryly. His friend grinned at him but there was a part of me that picked up on a lit in his eyes—he was partly serious there. Interesting.

"So you say often. Now—about tonight. Are you in or not? Last night out before we're back on campus," Callen questioned—not even picking up on the innuendos that Fred was clearly sending his way.

"Yeah—I suppose. Dominique and her boyfriend were talking about joining. You know—Cameron?" Fred sighed, carefully eyeing Callen's arm—which was still secured around my waist.

"He's the muggle, right?" Callen questioned with a slight wrinkle to his nose. "Such a shame Dominique had to go to that. She was on my list—but I'm afraid Luke fucking Masters ruined her for everyone else."

Fred really stiffened then—his eyes growing cold. Callen gave him a genial smile, but it was very much not reciprocated.

"I swear to Merlin Cal, I don't know how on earth you tricked the sorting hat into putting you in Gryffindor. You're a Slytherin if I'd ever seen one. If you speak about Dominique in that way _ever _again I will not hesitate in punching your face in. Clear?"

"Calm yourself, Fred. I was only joking. Plus that whole thing about Masters is pretty well known," Callen shrugged but then sighed when Fred's face didn't change. "Fine—I'm sorry I spoke of your precious cousin that way. I won't do it again, even if that promise doesn't make her any less hot. I swear your family sure does make them."

"Callen, I'd lay off. I don't know if you're particularly stupid but anyone with half a brain can see he's about to strangle you," I sighed, not really in the mood to witness a boy fight (entertaining or not). Fred shot me a surprised look and I shrugged. "I'm not really one for bloodshed."

"For you, love, anything," Callen purred into my ear. I shot him a simpering smile and Fred's face darkened further. "You're perfectly welcome to join us for a night out. We'll show you the town."

"You'd have to speak to my babysitters. They dictate my entrance and exit into the real world. Daddy's little girl can't do anything dangerous can she?" I questioned, taking his hand and moving his arm to his own side. "I'm at the Leaky Cauldron, keep that in mind."

I swept my bag and hoisted it over my shoulder as Callen gave a small grunt.

"No way in hell will an Auror release you to me. Not important enough," he declared. I marginally noticed he looked upset—but not like he would go out of his way to fix the problem.

"I've got it. I'll talk to my Uncle," Fred announced. Callen gave him an annoyed look.

"Perfect—Mr. High Status here will get you the go ahead and I'll show you the time of your life. Just make sure you look extra pretty for me, yeah?"

I refrained from rolling my eyes. Don't men know the subtle art of seduction? You don't just come right out with a lewd innuendo like that. It gives them something to expect and doesn't leave anything to dangle over their heads. It was a pity really—that nobody could challenge me.

"I'm sure you will," I answered, biting back any sarcastic retorts and keeping my voice smooth and even. "Oh—and if anyone asks I went straight back to the inn after getting lost at Eyelops."

I had just reached the door to what I assumed was the back stairwell when Callen let out a shout. I've been waiting for him to ask me this and grinned to myself before turning around.

"You didn't give me your name, love," he stated, grinning in what he probably thought was a heart-melting manner. I gave Fred a rather pointed look before turning back to his pompous friend.

"It's Adder. Adder Ryan."

I just caught a glimpse of Fred's face before I shut the door. His eyes were alight with jealousy over the fact that I graced his friend with my name rather than him. Merlin, can they at least give me some sort of challenge? They honestly make it too easy.


	6. Chapter 5

"Just give us one night," I pouted. Uncle Harry rolled his eyes and stopped eating for a moment, his fork hovering right before his mouth.

"You've never even met her, Fred. I don't know if you'd wanna take her out anyways. She's rather abrasive," he sighed.

"Abrasive—she's a downright—"

"Ronald, stop whatever you're going to say and eat your food. Honestly—she's sixteen, give her a chance. She's more than just that two minute meeting," Aunt Hermione snapped. Uncle Ron shrugged and dug into the second helping of food he obtained from the kitchen.

"You didn't speak with her 'Mione. I swear," Uncle Ron grumbled through a mouthful of food.

"Did you ever find her?" Mum questioned from the kitchen where she was getting together tea.

"Apparently she went back to the inn after she got lost. But with what Kingsley told me about her—I doubt that's the case. Apparently she does this often at home. I'm surprised she didn't spend more time at the shop—it was crowded enough for her to hide for hours," Uncle Harry snorted. Hugo and Lily ran into the room now and froze listening to Uncle Harry's words.

"Are you talking about the girl from the flat?" Hugo questioned. James and I simultaneously choked on our food and began to wave to Hugo from behind the adults' backs.

"What girl from the flat?" Dad questioned, his eyes slipping to us. James and I froze, both in a rather awkward position and ducked our heads into our food again.

"The girl with the red hair that Fred sent up? She wasn't very nice," Hugo shrugged, grabbing a biscuit from the plate at the center of the table and running away again. Damn Hugo and his blunt ways.

"Got anything to say to that, boys?" Aunt Ginny questioned levelly.

"I think Kent and Kay were expecting me like fifteen minutes ago," James declared, jumping up and scampering towards the fireplace.

"James!" Aunt Ginny shouted warningly.

"I know—Kent's room, that's it," James shouted—disappearing in the haze of the fire. Chicken shit. Now all of the adults were staring at me with expectant looks on their faces.

"Okay—so I might've hid her for like a half hour," I started. There was a chorus of groans from my parents as Uncle Harry's eyebrows shot up. "But I felt bad for her! Imagine having hit-wizards and Aurors tailing you all hours of the day. It must be exhausting. You all know what it's like—you had to deal with all the reporters."

"Honestly Fred, can you do something you're supposed to for once in your life?" Mum questioned, smacking me upside the head with a dishtowel. Roxy snorted into her tea and I shot her a dirty look.

"Asking Fred to follow the rules is like asking Hagrid to refuse a dragon," Roxy declared.

"I'm sorry—I know I should've sent her along…"

"Bet you a galleon he thought she was fit and wanted in her knickers," Roxy laughed. I gaped at her. Honestly—parents and family adult-figures present.

"Roxanne! Go entertain Al and Rose, please," Dad declared—pointing his finger down the hall. Roxy groaned and threw her napkin on the table before begrudgingly trudging down the hall (muttering a few choice phrases under her breath) and declaring that she never get's to see me get in trouble anymore.

"For the record—I totally wasn't looking to get in her knickers. My own sister's opinion of me is atrocious," I declared, smiling at the sea of frowning faces. Why'd Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron have to bring their families' over for dinner _tonight_? If Hugo wasn't here—this wouldn't be happening.

"I don't need to know," Mum groaned. "But it _was_ a highly irresponsible venture."

"So I take it I'm not going to be trusted with taking her out tonight?" I sighed as the fireplace roared. Dominique stumbled out, brushing ash off her dress in the process. She paused and examined the situation for a moment before groaning.

"Are you in trouble _already_? I swear, Fredrick, if you ruined my night by getting grounded I'll kill you."

"You can still go without me," I smirked, enjoying the peeved look on her face.

"Right—like I'd endure your daft dorm mates without you," she snorted, pulling out a chair and grabbing a biscuit from the center of the table. "So—is my night canceled, because I need to go tell Cam?"

"Look—I know I shouldn't have hid her from your two trainees Uncle Harry, but it's not like I showed her how to escape the country. I gave her five minutes to herself. Now—whether you trust _me_ or not Dominique will be there tonight. She's _Head Girl_," I declared, motioning towards Dom. She gave me an annoyed look, which I merely returned with a smile. She hates it when I drag her into my schemes against her will.

"She probably _should_ get to know some students in her year. We are hosting her here," Aunt Ginny piped up, massaging the back of her husband's neck. I grinned—I've totally just won.

"If you don't care that he hid her Harry—I'm not going to take drastic actions," Dad piped up. I could tell he found the whole situation humorous but was keeping a straight face for appearances.

"Fine," Uncle Harry sighed. I jumped up from the table and started to do a victory dance of sorts. I was so going to one up Cal on this one. "But—if you lose her Fred. It's your head."  
"Whoever Fred's _not_ losing, I'll make sure of it," Dom sighed. Uncle Harry gave her a thankful smile.

"Fred here wants to take out the American Minister's daughter with you guys tonight," Uncle Ron explained. "Not that I know why—she's kinda a cow."

"Ronald! She's sixteen! Be an adult," Aunt Hermione snapped as Dom and I gaped at him. Uncle Ron never ceases to amaze me with his lack of tact.

"Right—I'll be sure to return her fully intact," Dominique sighed, looking at me expectantly. "But we said we'd meet everyone at ten at Leaky and I still have to go get Cam."

"I'll meet you there—I'm going to go shower. Thanks Uncle Harry—I'll be the responsible nephew you've always wished for!"

"I'm already regretting it," Uncle Harry groaned as I started down the hall. I paused at Roxy's room and peeked in. She was polishing her beaters bat as Albus and Rose read a large book at the edge of her bed.

"Rox—just letting you know that you should expect retribution for that comment," I stated. She merely rolled her eyes.

"You haven't been able to prank me for years. I know all your tricks by now," she snorted.

"I haven't decided if it's going to be limited to a prank. That was an awful statement—denouncing me in front of all of our parents."

Rose and Albus both let out a low groan and tore themselves from their book to gape at Roxy.

"Isn't that like against sibling code or something? I don't go spouting off what I've seen when I've walked in on James and Kaylie," Albus snorted. Roxy, Rose and I all made identical faces of disgust as Al shrugged.

"It's not as bad as you think—but still slightly traumatizing," he declared.

"Anyways—Al's right. It broke sibling code and you will pay, baby sister. Now I'm off to get ready. I'm just being a _good sibling_ and warning you."

"Yeah, yeah Freddy. Go get ready," Roxy laughed. I chucked a stuffed animal from the top of the dresser at her face and made my way to my own room. I kicked a pile of dirty clothes out of the way and was currently perusing my closet for a clean shirt that wasn't a Quidditch jersey when a knock sounded on my doorjamb. I looked up to see Dad standing awkwardly there. Oh for the love of Merlin.

"So, about what your sister said," he started. I groaned and shrugged the red flannel on over my undershirt.

"Dad—we had this conversation like two years ago," I sighed, buttoning it up and leaning into the mirror to rearrange my hair.

"I know that—it's your mother's request," Dad groaned. I smirked at him. Dad has always had trouble being an authority figure to me. Don't get me wrong—he does. I get in trouble for the worst of pranks but he usually congratulates me on the better ones. He says I remind him too much of his brother to get too angry with me when I show my true brilliance. It's hard for him, I think. I'm his son—but there's always this tiny part of him that wants to treat me as a friend rather than a child.

"Look—I get that you're seventeen. I remember being seventeen—it was a weird year, yeah. We all made efforts though—to break that toad's rules and be regular teenagers. It was like everything was heightened because of the war and people just kinda went crazy. I just want you to be careful," he declared, sitting on the edge of the bed.

"It's not what Roxy thinks, honestly. She just sees me around with different girls during the school year. But she doesn't know that I don't just treat them as objects—it's what she assumes, especially with Callen as my mate. I wish she thought better of me, being my sister and all. I'm not like that, I _do _respect women. I just can't seem to get myself to settle down," I explained calmly. Dad raised his eyebrows at me.

"I'm not asking you to settle down. You don't have to be like all of us. You don't have to decide who you're going to marry while in school. You can date around. You can be young. I just want you to be careful. Trust me—this conversation isn't the easiest for me to have. I don't want to be talking to you about this because then it means you're not my little boy anymore. I just wanna make sure you don't do something stupid," Dad answered. "But I do admire that you respect females."

I blinked at him—I can't remember the last time he's spoken to me in this way, completely serious. I don't even remember the last time he's called me his little boy. Years, probably.

"Now that you've sufficiently channeled Mum and we've had a heart to heart, I'm going to be late," I smirked, wishing to ease back into our normal stature. This serious Dad was unnerving. I didn't like serious—it made me uncomfortable. I appreciated how he cared for me but things were just so much easier to handle when people were laughing.

"Well you know—when you're married to her for around twenty years you pick up a few personality traits. Do you wish to never speak of this awkward situation ever again?" Dad questioned with a small smirk.

"Please?"

"Deal," Dad announced, shaking my hand. I gave him a small smile and quickly allowed a hug. Dad seemed surprised for a moment but returned to quick squeeze and then let go. "I will be speaking to your sister about her opinion about you. Be home by two," he declared, exiting the room.

"Three?!" I tried.

"Two-thirty!" He allowed.

"George!" Mum groaned from the kitchen.

"He's leaving for school in two days Angie. He's not going to be able to go out for a bit—let him have some fun," Dad replied as I walked into the kitchen.

"I'm of age, Mummy," I declared, wrapping my arms around her from behind.

"Yeah, yeah. Be good, Fredrick. Do _not_ lose that girl or you _will _regret it," she ordered, turning around and surveying me sternly. Aunt Hermione snorted out a small laugh but covered it up with a clearing of her throat. I refrained from rolling my eyes and quickly floo'd into the Leaky cauldron. A few of my fellow Gryffindor seventh years were already grouped at a booth off to the side. Parker Finnigan and Corey Harlow were already attached at the lips while Carrie Palmer and Kelly Dawson looked on in disgust. They both looked my way when they heard the Floo and broke out into identical grins of relief

"Thank Merlin you're here. They won't stop," Kelly whined, chucking a crumpled napkin at their faces. They broke apart only briefly to glare at her and acknowledge my existence before diving right back in.

"I should tell your Dad, Parks. He still thinks you're like totally innocent doesn't he?" I laughed, thinking of her hugely overprotective Irish father. She pulled away then to gape at me.

"Please don't. I already have to bribe Conner to not spill his guts," she groaned. "It's not my fault I haven't seen him all holiday."

"I know—you should refuse to go to Ireland next summer. I miss you too much," Corey sighed, nuzzling his face into her neck. I shot a horrified look at Parker's dorm mates. They both looked equally disgusted.

"I didn't think it was possible for you two to get more horrid over Holiday—but you've proved me wrong. Can we just leave now so I can separate myself from this?" Carrie snorted.

"We're still waiting on Dom and her boyfriend, Callen, and I have to go fetch our newest little friend," I sighed. Everyone looked at me blankly then.

"Who's new?" Kelly questioned as Corey asked about Dom's boyfriend simultaneously.

"Callen invited this new girl to join us. She's American and finishing school here. Dom's boyfriend's name is Cameron. He's very cool," I sighed as the door leading out to Muggle London opened and the couple in question came into the pub.

"I swear—what's wrong with the underground? I _hate_ doing that whole_ thing_," Cameron groaned, shaking his head slightly.

"It takes too long," Dominique brushed off—waving in our direction.

"Did I mention her boyfriend is a muggle?" I added, slipping away as they leveled up with us and going over to the counter. I was happy to dodge the inevitable awkwardness that my friends would pursue at the thought of having someone not like us joining our outings and motioned for Mrs. Longbottom.

"You're taking Miss Ryan out, aren't you?" she questioned, her usually chipper voice slightly flat. "She's in room 3A."

"You don't seem too happy about it," I sighed.

"She's not the easiest to get along with, dear," Mrs. Longbottom replied. I shrugged it off and started up the stairs. Everyone seemed to say the same thing so far—that Adder wasn't one to get along with. I wanted to think the best of her, one because I usually don't make opinions off of other people's word and two because she _was_ rather fit. I was willing to give her the benefit of the doubt tonight.

She wasn't like any of the other girls that I went after. She was different. I've never met _anyone_ as confusing as she was—and I've only been around her for the better part of a half hour. In that small space of time she made it seem that she was totally interested in me but then suddenly went ice cold and showed interest in Callen. It made me want to beat him out. I don't know what it was—probably the vast amount of girls he's stolen from right under my nose. I just wanted to get this _one_ from him. She made me want to try harder when she suddenly went all cold. Maybe it was a part of her master plan, but who knows where it would actually lead. Nobody really knew her—so who knew if she was even capable of being devious. She just seemed like she was out for some fun and I was nothing _but_ fun.

I knocked hesitantly on the door to her room and listened to the shuffling from behind the wooden barrier.

"Just come on in!" she shouted from deep inside the room. Hesitantly I pushed it open and felt my jaw drop slightly. I quickly recovered before she turned around to look at me, putting her hand jauntily on her hip. "Hey—I have to say, I'm impressed."

"With what?" I questioned, taking the opportunity of her turning back to her vanity mirror to really look at her. She bent over to peer closer to the mirror and I felt my eyebrows shoot up automatically. What was it with girls in leather? When did this become a trend and how did I not know about it until recently? Was it an American thing to wear stockings? Like actual stockings with lace tops that probably belong in the bedroom? Because they were clearly visible underneath the edge of her leather mini skirt when she bent forward like that.

"That you arranged for me to go out sans babysitters," she answered, not even looking at me. "I didn't think that uncle of yours was capable of living without a stick up his ass."

"Now, now—I don't know if it's such a good idea to insult the family of the guy that just earned you freedom," I snorted. She turned to me now, having finished with adjusting her hair.

"It's not an insult if it's the truth," she shrugged, looping her bag over her shoulder and strutting out of the room past me. I blanched for a moment, staring where she stood not even a second prior. Honestly, this woman. Shaking off the insult I followed after her, stuffing my hands in my back pocket and catching up with her.

"So, is Adder short for anything? It's rather unusual, yeah?" I questioned, not showing the fact that she got to me back there.

"Wouldn't you like to know," she smirked.

"Love, that line's getting old," I sighed, giving her a look out of the corner of my eyes.

"But it's bugging you, so I'm kinda okay with it," she laughed, lighting down the stairs. "What are we doing tonight?"

"I'm not quite sure, it's usually Cal's plans," I snorted. She gave me a small look before smiling slightly.

"And this Cal—what's his story?" she questioned—sounding more than interested. I felt my pride bristle. He bloody did it again.

"He's a womanizing twat that I'm friends with out of history together," I grumbled. Adder's eyebrows rose slightly and the slightest of smiles curled at the corner of her mouth.

"Just my type," she sang, looking at me dead on.

"If you say so," I sighed, taking the time to eye her out of the corner of my eyes. She tossed her vibrant hair over her shoulder and straightened her shoulders just like she did earlier. I purposefully kept my eyes trained on her face, which faltered slightly at the lack of reaction I gave her.

"Gorgeous! You escaped!" Callen shouted from across the bar. Adder raised an eyebrow at me and turned on her heel—sauntering over to him and rolling her shoulders back slightly. Callen's reaction was what she desired because his eyes fell to roam over her body before flicking back to her face. He had a hand on her hip and was introducing her around.

"Jeeze Freddy—way to show the jealousy. You don't even know her," Dominique hissed. I turned to look at my cousin. She was frowning in Adder's direction, her lips pursed.

"It's Callen! He's done it again," I groaned. "Every single girl that I show any interest in, he swoops down like some gigantic hippogriff and snatches her up. It's not even that it's _this_ girl, it's him and the need to beat him for once."

"Well, yeah, she's hot," Cameron started, ignoring the incredulous look his girlfriend was sending his way. "But I've dealt with girls like her. I don't know if I'd suggest getting involved, dude."

"Well you don't need to worry about it. I won't be getting involved because I will _never _take Cal's seconds," I sighed. Cameron clapped a hand on my shoulder as we started out of the pub into Muggle London.

"Don't fret, Freddy dear. We'll find you a nice replacement." Dominique cooed, slipping her arm through mine. I glared at her and she grinned up at me. She may be teasing me but I could tell her heart was in the right place.

"What about a nice muggle girl? Our side of the realm is fantastic to dabble on," Cameron put in.

"Now you two are just taking the micky out of me and I don't appreciate it," I declared, throwing my arms in the air. Cameron and Dominique laughed as I stalked forward towards Kelly and Carrie, throwing an arm around each of their shoulders. Screw the female species. I don't need a snog to have a fun night.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

Oh shit, I need a drink. I don't know how much longer I could use Cal as a pawn in my little challenge. But I needed to keep it up because I might have taken it too far. The only way to make it work was to continue on the path I set myself. Fred had completely shut off since I took to Callen. There might be more to their relationship than I pegged. It seems as if Fred is rather resentful to his so called friend. He just stopped trying—keeping to his cousin, her boyfriend, and his other two friends.

Callen had taken us to this packed wizarding club. The same scene I was used to back home only everyone had accents. And honestly if I was going to continue on without punching him or doing something completely drastic I need _some _sort of liquid courage. He just wouldn't stop _touching _me.

"Cal—will you be a total dear and get me something to drink?" I questioned, coming in close to his ear so I wouldn't have to shout over the pounding music. He raised his eyebrows and flicked some hair out of his eyes.

"It would be my pleasure, love," he practically purred. Oh gross. Once he was completely gone, I dropped my demeanor and leaned against the table, tilting my head back so my neck would crack. This was completely exhausting. Why do I put myself through these things? I straightened back up and scanned the groupings of people around us. Most of who we came with had dispersed—the couples going off and doing whatever couples do (I honestly wouldn't know) but I zeroed in on my target chatting up some random brunette. Time to strike.

I slid off my bar stool and started winding my way over, only to be stopped about half way there. Please, can't I go _five_ freaking minutes?

"Hello there, love. You seem awful lonely," the guy growled, grabbing at my waist. He was clearly double my age and pretty drunk. I rolled my eyes and pushed his hands off.

"You seem pretty drunk and kinda disgusting," I shot back. He blinked for a second before yanking me flush to him. And the minister just _had_ to take away my wand.

"Let go before you regret it," I ordered, looking him straight in the eyes.

"Whatcha goin' to do? Curse me, love? I don't see no wand," he grumbled, lunging in to kiss me. I immediately recoiled. Do these Brits _not_ take a hint?

"C'mon, love. If you're shy—we can just go back to my place," he hiccupped.

"She obviously doesn't want anything to do with you, mate," a voice shouted above the music. I leaned to the side to catch a rather annoyed looking Fred with a hand on the man's shoulder.

"Not that this act of heroics isn't cute, but I think I can handle it," I declared. The man just seemed confused about the sudden appearance of another guy.

"She's mine, mate, go'way" the guy slurred, turning back towards me and lunging for another kiss. I swiftly brought my knee up and the guy immediately released me, recoiling into himself.

"I'm nobody's," I declared, whispering it into his ear as he was hunched over his own stomach. And with that I flounced over to the bar and leaned over so the bartender could get a small view. The perfect way to get free drinks.

"Can I get a shot please? Someone just tried to rape me," I pouted. The barkeep blinked but immediately busied himself with getting a shot glass and pouring out a liberal dose of firewhiskey.

"Impressive," a voice stated from behind me. I dumped the liquid down my throat, motioned for another, and turned back to Fred.

"All in the life," I shrugged, grabbing him by the belt loop and yanking him closer. He didn't even attempt to hide his surprise. "So we don't have to shout," I explained, holding out the shot for him. He gave me a suspicious look but took it anyways, shuddering slightly as he came up for air.

"Is that barkeep trying to kill you or get you drunk enough to drag you somewhere? That has got to be the _strongest_ firewhiskey I have ever taken," he groaned. I laughed appropriately at him and cocked my head to the side.

"You didn't need to play hero, you know. That guy was twice your size and you're tall to begin with," I remarked, reaching up and brushing a few strands of hair out of his eyes.

"That didn't seem to stop you," he laughed. The tiny part of my brain that wasn't focused on winning perked up at his laugh; it was nice. "But seeing as your date for the night was MIA, I had to do something."

"Callen?" I questioned innocently. And I thought he would be more of a challenge. "He's just a good time, Fred. But frankly—he's rather annoying. You're much easier to talk to."

"I see what you're doing," he snorted, taking the two fresh shots and handing me one. "You're feeding my ego. I can't figure out why, to be completely honest."

"Maybe I'm just complimenting you?" I tried, sipping the drink instead of taking it down in one. It burned a path down my throat and made my eyes water.

"No—you're not. You're a mystery—you know that right? One second you're all over me and the next second you're all over my mate. A _sane_ human being would walk away," he remarked, taking the shot back and grimacing again.

"Then why haven't you?" I questioned, looking up from beneath my eyelashes. Fred smirked at me and ran a hand through his hair.

"I don't quite know. Maybe I'm not as sane as I thought. Maybe I see beyond whatever image you're trying to portray here. Maybe I don't just want to snog you like you're so obviously vying for, but rather get to know you," he answered automatically. Shit, I'm going to have to change my strategy _again_. He's one of those nice guys. Completely different from the route I was going for earlier. They react to the advances but don't make a move. They want to respect you. It's sweet, but very unrealistic to my way of life. Well if he wanted to respect me—I'll play.

"Maybe I want that too? We _are_ going to be classmates," I shot back, my voice sweet and level. Fred seemed surprised by my sudden change of personality but he brushed the look off his face as fast as it came. "You seem surprised."

"No," Fred laughed, resting his hand lightly on my waist. "It just seems that every time I finally figure you out—I'm proven wrong."

"Fred! Are you almost ready to take off?"

Fred turned around and made a slight face at his cousin—a tall (and gorgeous—I realized rather begrudgingly. Pretty girls just don't sit well with me) strawberry blonde. Her boyfriend, the muggle, was really handsome and different than most of the clean cut guys that I've seemed to be surrounded by. When he spoke to Fred I was pleasantly surprised—he _wasn't _British. Not by a long haul.

"Where are you from?" I questioned, completely interrupting whatever he and Fred were talking about.

"California," he answered, shooting me a look that I couldn't read. "Are there lost of wizards in America?"

"We're all over the place but most of us, and the biggest school, are in the Rockies," I shrugged. He seemed impressed and slightly disturbed by this fact, but finished whatever he was saying to Fred and then turned back to Dominique.

"It's rounding one thirty and I'm tired," she was saying. Fred was frowning and I distinctly noticed him eyeing me out of the corner of his eyes.

"Just go—do you need me to cover to your parents for you?" he questioned, grinning at the two of them. Dominique gave him an annoyed look and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"No—I told them I'm staying with Leah," she declared rather snootily.

"Well don't do anything I wouldn't do, you two," he laughed.

"That's not much, Fred," Dominique shot back automatically. He grimaced as my eyebrows shot up. He's far more complex than I pegged him for.

"What is with my family taking shots at my reputation tonight? Just go, Dom," he sighed. She smirked triumphantly and gave him a kiss on the cheek before eyeing me hesitantly. "And I'll make sure to get her back and if I fail—it'll be all on me."

"I won't have you dragging me into things again. I'd rather not have Uncle Harry on my case," she declared.

"What did I just say?" Fred snapped. I felt myself bristle. Obviously I was being kept an eye on by more than one person at this little outing. It made me angry—I can't go _anywhere _without being watched. I _was _starting to feel myself relent to him—starting to feel guilty for my plan. He seemed too nice to crush. But now—well now all bets were off. I'm not some piece of property to pass along from person to person.

"Fine—it was very nice to meet you. I'll see you on the train," Dominique stated, turning to me and giving me a slight smile before disappearing off through the crowd. Fred turned to me after they were completely gone and smiled slightly. Yeah—your smile and your laugh may have broken through my very first layer of defense but I had many more and I wasn't going to make that mistake again.

"Dance with me?" I questioned suddenly. Fred smirked and shrugged a shoulder before taking my hand. I dragged him out into the packed floor before turning to him. All semblance of beating around the bush was gone—I was going to do this and I was going to do this now. Fred, however, seemed kind of hesitant so I took his hands and placed them firmly on my hips before stepping close. I've made a goal for myself—to make as many enemies here as possible and frankly I was beating around the bush. Being coy wasn't going to get me sent back home any time soon—it was time to be proactive.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

Suddenly, it was happening so quickly I couldn't get a hold on my morals and abandon my hormones. I was honest with her when I told her I wasn't out for a snog and I wanted to get to know her—I could tell it was what she needed. With the way she handled herself with the drunken bloke I could tell she had to defend herself more often than anyone should have to. She obviously had the guys throwing themselves at her, _imposing_ themselves on her, at such a rate that she had to learn how to handle herself. She deserved to be treated with the respect she so obviously was starved of. But when she threw herself at me what could I do? I was human—but I was trying. Honestly, I was. I'd come to realize it wasn't about beating out Callen anymore, but helping her. She had this rough exterior that she didn't want broken. Suddenly I cared. I cared to build a relationship—even if it meant pausing at friendship. But when one is up on you in this way—how can you ebb away the feelings of attraction?

Her eyes were hypnotic as she led me to the dance floor, grabbed me by the belt and pulled herself close. I don't know when the switch went off in her head. Maybe around the same time I concluded that I wasn't going to snog her? But obviously she was going the complete opposite direction. It was a fire burning so bright that even I could see it and I could feel my blood pumping in my head. The firewhiskey was numbing my fingers and toes and idling my brain and my choices, but when she looked up at me in that way all I saw was this incredibly fit female throwing herself at me and moving on me and it was hard to stick to my decision.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

I made sure. I made sure that there was no space between us as I moved to the music. Fred wasn't as responsive as I thought he would be—as he looked down at me with husky eyes I could see an internal battle raging on. His touches were hesitant, so weak compared to my full fire force of determination. I was curious to what was going on in his head, but I was beyond the point of playing the game. I needed to be offensive. The time for defense was over.

So I raised my eyebrows at him and grabbed his hesitant hands, placing them firmly on my hips before flipping one hand over his shoulder and moving my hips to the beat. I was against him and could feel every reaction that he couldn't avoid, even if there was conflict behind his eyes.

"Don't be so scared," I whispered, standing on my tip-toes so I could whisper it in his ear. He snorted at this.

"Scared is the last thing I am at this moment," he replied, his breath warm on my neck. It was words like that that made me falter. I had to stick to my resolve—I couldn't let this boy destroy my plans. I needed to make them all hate me. I needed to show everyone that I didn't want to be here and I wouldn't stand for being welcomed. If I didn't how could I ever prove to my Dad that he was wrong. He was wrong to send me away. I couldn't melt.

"You _are_ scared. It's okay to touch me," I shot back, running my fingers along the edge of his hairline at the back of his neck, my hips still in constant movement.

"I don't want to take advantage of you. It would be much simpler to just be friends with you. Not to snog you, as much as I might want to. You don't need another guy taking advantage of your advances," he answered, stopping dancing and gently taking my face in his hands. I wanted to scowl at him. I wanted to hit him. He was making this so _difficult _for me. So I did the next best thing in my opinion—I kissed him. Fisting the front of his shirt in my hands and pressing my lips firmly against his. He didn't respond at first—he kinda froze. But after a moment his hand was tangled in my hair and his other pulling me to him from my ass.

I don't care what he thought the kiss was based off of. In his mind it was probably out of gratitude; out of relief that there was a guy that wanted to 'treat me right' in this world. He was wrong. I don't care about how I'm treated. I don't care about being respected. I'm here to make a point. So I put everything I could into this. All my magic techniques and tricks. The slight nip to the lower lip, the one hand caressing the hip and the other tugging through his hair. I had to admit—out of all the guys I've played. All the guys I've kissed just to lose myself. He was one of the better ones. He responded to my every move with one of his own, exploring my mouth with his tongue and holding me roughly to him (but with such gentleness, it surprised me). And as soon as I was sure he was completely and utterly drawn in to me I pulled away, ducking his still expectant lips. He was staring at me intently, his breath still hitching in his chest. I allowed myself to smirk.

"I hope you realize that I don't need to be protected. That I welcome the advances and I don't need you watching over me. I don't need you tailing me and I don't need your friendship. I did this because I _could_. You're too easy to play. You need to not be such a sap. Don't expect anything to be built off of this. This was just a point I was set to prove. That I could manipulate—make you care. Because frankly, I don't," I declared, ignoring the flabbergasted look on his face. And I walked away—because I've won.


	7. Chapter 6

"So you promise to write?" Mum questioned, her hands trapped around my cheeks. I attempted to mumbled a response, but failed due to lack of jaw movement, so I just gave her a flat look and hoped to convey my message in that way.

"Sorry—it's just this is our last time for you and it's quite—" Mum started, cutting off and looking down at her feet.

"Are you getting weepy on me?" I managed to marginally get out. Dad took mercy on me and grabbed Mum's wrists, lowering them to her sides.

"No of course not. I'm thinking about how soon Christmas Holidays are. It's not long enough between breaks from you," she replied, sniffing loudly.

"It's quite alright, Mum. C'mere," I announced in a slight baby-voice, holding out my arms and wiggling a bit. Mum launched herself in them, making me stumble slightly and broke down to sobs.

"You're—just—growing—up—so—qu-qu-quickly!" she declared. I gave Dad an alarmed look. This is rather out of character. She's not usually the weepy type. Dad looked only slightly less uncomfortable than I did and gently took Mum into his own arms.

"There, there, Angie. We've still got another one to say goodbye to. It'd be wrong to forget about her. I mean you might as well be locking her up in a cupboard at this point. Why don't you give her some love," he sighed, patting down Mum's dark hair. Roxy merely looked alarmed at the prospect of having a wailing mother in her arms and started edging towards the train.

"Oh look—Molly is boarding the train," she declared, laughing awkwardly and attempting to pick up her trunk by herself. I don't know how in the world she manages to gain enough strength to lift a beater's bat and hit a bludger when she can hardly lift anything else. "I'll just be off, then."

"Freeze young lady!" Mum snapped, lifting her face from Dad's chest. "I will get a proper goodbye from you if it kills me. Mostly because I am emotional and I'm going to milk the situation for all that it's worth."

Roxy cracked a smile and gave Mum a huge hug all while waving to a few of her mates behind her back. Mum hefted a sigh, obvious to the fact that Roxy wasn't exactly concentrating on her heartfelt goodbye, and released her.

"Go—you great big ingrate. Don't forget to write," she commanded, swatting Roxy on the behind as she dragged her trunk and ran as fast as such would allow towards the train.

"I'm just not going to tire out the poor owl by writing you Mum," I sighed. She glared at me. "Why bother really? You'll find out exactly what I'm up to from _Longbottom's _owls."

"Fred, can't you behave yourself?" Mum sighed.

"Mum! It's my last year! Why ever would I do that? I've still got to beat that bloody swamp in the Charms corridor," I snorted. Dad perked up at this, looking immensely proud at his past achievement, but faked sternness when Mum glared at him.

"Behave," he stated, admonishing a finger at me. I saluted him and hefted my trunk up, allowing one last kiss on the cheek, and slipping into the throngs of students entering the train. There was a hold-up and, after shoving a few of the smaller first years aside, I discovered it was my sister trying to lug her trunk up the steps.

"You're pathetic," I groaned, thumping my own trunk on top of hers and lifting the two easily. "You call yourself a beater, woman? Now which compartment?"

"Erm—Somewhere down the middle of the train, I believe. Taylor shouted at me as she breezed past," Roxy ordered, starting off down that direction. I edged around people as best I could and froze for a second when something caught my eye. I thought for a mo' it was Molly or Lucy and was going to tease such appropriately but I ended up dropping the trunks out of frustration. Or surprise. Whichever comes off more manly, I suppose. I sufficiently blocked that night from my mind. There she was, bloody sitting there like she owned the place, and looking immensely board. With her stupid fire-red hair and even stupider piercing blue eyes, I just wanted to hit something. Why'd she have to sit there like she hated the world—it made hating her difficult because I was raised to attempt to befriend those people because they needed it the most. Well sorry Weasley Philosophy—not going to happen. I'm going to avoid her like she's a bloody effing basilisk.

"Fred! Hurry it up, will you? I don't want to get squished in the middle seats," Roxy shouted, doubling back. She peered in the compartment as I was restacking our trunks, accidentally jostling our owl (Ginger) in the process. She gave an extra-loud screech, making Adder's head pop up and make eye contact with me. She smirked, giving me that stupid bloody _look_. I didn't intend to give her any reaction—just pretend she wasn't anybody of importance—but my jaw locked in place and I could almost feel the fire boring out of my glare. It only made her smirk more.

"Is that her?" Roxy questioned from my shoulder. I forgot she was standing there and whirled around—knocking down a second year in the process. I seem to be knocking down many people today; maybe it's to supplement my knocked down ego? It burns, I tell you, burns.

"I don't know what you're talking about," I sniffed, starting back off in the way we were going.

"Can you try that again without the estrogen laced throughout the words? It was a tad too female for my liking," Roxy snorted. "Was that the girl that denied you access to her Chamber of Secrets?"

"Okay—one, I do _not_ want to hear those words come out of your mouth _ever _again, Roxanne. You are fifteen—you should not know about innuendos at your age. Two, I'm not talking to you about any things of that sort, it's completely wrong. Again _fifteen_ and the whole younger sister part comes into play. Three, she didn't deny me _anything_. I'm a studly man whom women can't resist."

"That was far too much of a 'Dad Lecture' for my liking. Lay off the over-protective brother thing, it's overdone. Oh for the love of Merlin—Dominique! Please talk some sense into Fredrick here? He's turning into a girl before my very eyes," Roxy declared, grabbing Dom's arm as she started past us. She had a large bulky case on her back in addition to her trunk and didn't look happy about having to stop before unloading it. She took one look at me, however, and sighed.

"C'mon to the 'Prefects Car'. We have a bit before they all join us," she declared, motioning to the large red-curtained car a few spaces down. I deposited Roxy's trunk (taking care to shake it as much as possible just out of spite; she shrieked at me so I felt accomplished) and followed Victorie down to the space. I was impressed, to say the least. It was at least double the size of a normal car and very spacious with tubs of pumpkin juice and baskets of snacks spaced throughout.

"Right—what's got your knickers in a twist?" Dominique questioned after she successfully stored her luggage.

"What's in the black case?"

"It's Leanne," Dom replied impatiently. "Now back to your knickers."

"There's a person in there?" I questioned.

"It's Cameron's guitar. He lent it to me for the school year. Now quit changing the subject and tell me what's going on?"

"I'd rather avoid this conversation—thanks."

"It's about whatever went on after I left the other night, yeah? You craftily change the subject whenever James or I ask about it."

I didn't reply. I merely took a jug of pumpkin juice and took a gigantic swig, just for loss of things to do. I'd rather not share with James nor Dominique about what went down. It was too—well embarrassing to say the least. Frustrating would be closer. I was downright livid to be completely accurate.

"You're turning red, Freddy dear," Dominique giggled. It exploded out of me so fast I sprayed my mouth full of pumpkin juice across the car.

"I got played! Completely and utterly played! She _tricked_ me into caring about her—well start caring anyhow. It was all some gigantic game to her! To get me to be all invested, or whatever the bloody hell she was going on about, because it was entertaining to her. She bunged up my feelings because she could," I declared, stalking up and down the car. When I ran out of space I abruptly flipped around and went the other way.

"So here I am—being completely and utterly pathetic because I thought she was this misunderstood person and had a lot to deal with. That she didn't need another guy trying to score with her—that maybe she just needed a _friend_!" I was on a full on rant now—all the stupid thoughts that have been cycling my mind all last night coming forth in a spew of run-on sentences and incomplete thoughts. Dominique was perched on one of the end benches watching me practically destroy the air with frustrated punches and kicks.

"And _then_ after this heart-bearing speech that rivals the things bloody _Molly_ reads about in her little fairy tales she fucking kisses me! And being a normal _bloke_ I reciprocate and it's a rather good snog and I just thought she was so _moved_ or whatever by my speech. But no—she kissed me to prove that she could make me care and then crush me! Who the fuck does that?!"

Dominique just stared at me—her mouth slightly open and a small crease between her eyebrows.

"Are you going to say anything, then? You practically beg me to tell you what's going on and then you just bloody sit there looking like a ruddy first year in their first transfiguration lesson!"

"You have to give me some time to process that—erm—colorful rant, Fred. It's a lot to take in," she snorted, tossing her hair over her shoulder. She frowned for a moment before laughing slightly.

"This girl is more of a deranged bitch than I am," she finally stated. "We did warn you not to get involved."

"Yes—thank you Dominique. If I wanted a fucking 'I told you so' I would've gone to my Mum."

"Sorry—I'm still slightly reeling over the fact that you're so _worked up_ over this," she sighed, grabbing my wrist as I made another pace by her. "Usually you let everything just roll off your back. You don't get _upset _about this sort of stuff."

"I'm just angry at myself for falling for it," I sighed.

"Why didn't you just gain some semblance of self-control?"

"Because when a _very _fit bird is rubbing up on you and then snogging you senseless all your self-control flees out the window!" I snapped.

"Erm—bad time, then?" Hollis Fairwright (Hufflepuff) questioned from the doorway to the car, his Head Boy badge glinting on his sweatshirt.

"Let me just round off this rant," I sighed, holding up a finger to Hollis. "In conclusion—I'd rather clean all the toilets on the grounds then _ever_ even _speak_ to her again. No—I'd speak to her only if _every single_ suit of armor the castle owned danced on her face!"  
I paused then—genius dawning clear in my mind. Oh this is good. This is really very good. Brilliant even. But I'm going to need to work it out.

"Fred—you _cannot_ make the suits of armor dance on a human's face! Even _I_ can't let you off for that." Dominique snapped—noticing (and almost correctly interpreting) the look on my face.

"I wish—but, no. I just came up with a brilliant idea. So brilliant, that all the anger from my spiel is gone!" I grinned, the light feeling spreading in my chest. There's only one thing that can solve any foul mood. "Have an enjoyable train ride. I am off to solve my rubbish attitude by something perfectly productive."

"Should we do something to stop him?" Hollis questioned hesitantly. Ah—my reputation is just so crystal.

"I suppose McGonagall will be a better option later on. Might as well see how this plays out. At least he's not acting like a dragon anymore. It's a step up, trust me," Dominique shrugged. "Your bounce-back time is outstanding, really. I'm impressed."

"We will come back to this subject later," I declared, hefting up my trunk. "But for now—I have discovered something that brightens my day exponentially."

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"An Auror will be here moments before the train departs to return your wand," Steven declared, hoisting my trunk on the overhead rack. Miles was standing outside of the door—his back pressed against the glass of the compartment door. Steven stood awkwardly across from me, his hands shoved in the pockets of his robes. They hadn't left my side all day yesterday, pretty much since I'd arrived back to the inn _very_ drunk at a _very_ late hour. Let's just say my hangover didn't compute with two young men that talked _far _too much for their own good.

"So are you excited for the year?" Steven questioned awkwardly. I gave him a flat look and continued to examine my nails—it was much easier to ignore him than resort to sass. After I won the battle at the club I've made no more attempts at seduction techniques—I was far too worn out and hungover yesterday to do such and as for today…well today ranged on the negative of my happiness scale at the moment. I was in a rotten mood, one that wouldn't be able to produce any sort of emotion beside contempt and anger; let alone cunning.

"Look—you did your job. I'm alive and not wandering the English countryside. You passed. Congrats. Just—don't talk to me," I announced as he looked at me expectantly. He was obviously surprised by the dismissal and there was even a flicker of insult across his features.

"Well—Miles and I will leave you be, then. But don't think that we're leaving the train completely. We'll be at the end of the corridors. So…don't try anything," he declared, going over and exiting the car without any semblance of a goodbye.

I wish I had my wand. Then I could just step off the train and apparate to anywhere. I didn't particularly care at the moment. I just wanted to be alone. Apparently 'alone' wasn't a word in the British dictionary because nobody seemed to get the hint. There was a sudden screech outside the door and my head snapped up in surprise. There he was, picking up two large trunks like they weighed nothing and snapping something at a slight girl with dark skin and hair and Fred's nose. She glanced at me through the window—obviously taking in my every feature before turning back to her brother and speaking again. Fred looked towards me again, clearly disgusted, and pushed past the girl and out of site. I felt a feeling in the pit of my stomach.

It had to be pride. That's what always brews there. A sense of accomplishment, accomplishment that I made this guy feel the sense of loss. It was a feeling I was often mildly disgusted with. It was a bittersweet feeling—I won, but at what cost? I never thought I would feel this way. Getting my rocks off of shocking people and making them realize I really was a force to be reckoned with. I felt the disgust with myself almost boiling over completely. I knew why it was worse this time, because I'd never struck a guy this _nice. _

Yes, I mentioned in my inner monologue that the nice guys were a special sort of breed to break, but I didn't go around making a habit of it. I only did such when it was absolutely beneficial to my own personal gain (like my plan to get out of this forsaken country). Usually I stuck to the demise of the douche bags and the cocky pricks. It weighed much lighter on my conscience to bring down those who've hurt before. I could tell myself I was being a vigil-ante when my thoughts got ahead of me.

It was rare—my feelings bubbling up after the fact. Usually I create a shield around my heart and gut, so when I do wrong I don't feel as bad. But sometimes it melts—I do _have_ feelings. Even if I deny them presence on my face and with others. I could never do that—let others into my feelings. Feelings only made things worse when people knew what was going through your mind. It was much _safer_ to keep them to yourself. You don't get hurt. I wasn't looking to get hurt. Not again.

There was a firm knock on the doorway to the compartment. I let my eyes flick away from the dead air they were picking apart and immediately shifted them back again. The Head Auror somehow took my lack of response as an affirmative and the door scraped against its mechanics.

"I've brought your wand," he declared. I allowed him a small flick of my eyes again and held my palm out flat. My fingertips warmed at the touch of the smooth wood. I curled my fingers around the handle and felt anxiety I didn't realize was there flow from me. I felt whole again.

"I heard you had a nice time out," Potter declared after a small throat clear. I let one shoulder rise and fall noncommittally and determinedly kept my eyes trained forward, all while flexing and unflexing my fingers around my wand. I could see the distorted image of him in the glass of the window. Beyond the image the platform was still packed to the brim of parents—but there was an obvious absence of students milling around. The train was really _just_ about to leave. "Right then. Have a good term."

And he left without another attempt of coaxing conversation. I didn't move from my stubborn stance until I felt the train start to roll. Slowly it went along and then it began to pick up speed. Once I was sure it was at the point of nobody entering the train (and unfortunately no chance of me getting off), did I move. I dug in my bag and extracted my metal tin and sketch book. I withdrew a carbonized pencil and flipped to a new page before immersing myself. I had a whole plethora of new lines and curves to bring to a page.

People fascinated me, and I don't just mean how easy it was for me to decipher them, I mean their _looks_. As much as I hated pretty much everyone, I loved to draw them. Everyone was different. Nobody—not even twins (as I discovered) are exactly alike. Everyone translates differently onto a page. So I drew—I drew every face that came to mind. I allowed my fingers to guide the pencil in sure and smooth strokes. I find sketching and drawing completely meditative. Here I don't have to stand to the expectations or goals I put myself to. I find that I can actually relax fully. I didn't have to be so tense when I drew the world because it was all right there on paper. I didn't have to live in it as I drew it.

"Excuse me?"

My head snapped up and I drew a disgusting line through my current face. I felt the fire course through my veins. It was coming along _perfectly_ and now it was ruined.

"Sorry—but I lost track of my boyfriend and brother and was looking for somewhere to sit before the Prefect meeting. I couldn't help but notice that you're alone. Could I sit in?"

The girl was small and slim with her chestnut hair piled up top her hair in a long pony tail (with its length I couldn't imagine how long her hair actually was). She rolled onto the outer edges of her tall brown leather boots and shot me a hopeful look, clutching her large book to her chest. Did it honestly look like I wanted company?

"Are you honestly not going to give me an answer?" she sighed, her eyes flashing slightly.

"I was just trying to figure out what exactly I was doing to make you think I wanted company," I stated flatly, looking abruptly down at my portrait and using my gum eraser to try to salvage it.

"You weren't. I was just trying to find a compartment that wasn't loud," she replied stiffly. And without another word she slid the door shut and plopped down on the seat across from me. I glanced up briefly through my eyelashes to look at her. She didn't look much younger than I did—probably only about a year. I didn't encounter many people like her—ones that ignored the venom I shot at them. Those types of self-assured people made me nervous. I didn't like how our personalities meshed—it was too easy of an opportunity to become friends. I never look for friends.

"You're the American Minister's daughter, aren't you?" she questioned. My head snapped up again—hoping to give her my best sneer. Unfortunately, she wasn't even looking at me. She had her eyes trained firmly on the pages of her book.

"Doesn't anybody mind their own business?" I snorted, roughly flipping the page of my sketch book and starting a new drawing. This one of the girl. As much as I hated her presence, it was picturesque how she was curled up on the cushion with a book the size of her entire lap.

"At this school? Never," she answered, lifting her eyes from the page to look at me. Her lips pursed slightly and her turquoise eyes flashed briefly before she returned her focus downwards. "You get used to it. Word travels faster than a Nimbus 5000 at Hogwarts. You learn to keep your deepest secrets to yourself or shared in complete solitude. Any place it _can_ be heard, it _will_ be heard."

"Thanks for the advice. Honestly, I won't have to worry about it. I'm not going to be there long enough to share anything. Not that I would anyways," I snapped.

"I thought you were here for the year," she commented lightly.

"I'm supposed to be. But I never do anything I'm supposed to do," I shrugged. There was a small span of silence before the girl let out a small giggle.

"Good luck with that. It's been a while since Hogwarts has had a rebel."

I felt my jaw drop. A rebel! That's what she thinks I am? I have far surpassed the term rebel. I wasn't only trying to rebel against things anymore, I was trying to turn everything upside down. It was the most logical path to follow. The term rebel was simply insulting. I wasn't here to make labels. I was here because my father didn't know how to deal with press and he thought it was easier to get rid of the problem. I wasn't here to stir up trouble. Trouble was only a bonus to what I was trying to do.

"Look, sweetheart. I don't know who you think you are—coming in here and judging me. I don't know who you've heard your rumors from. I, frankly, don't give a shit. All I want is to be left alone so I can make enough of a nuisance of myself to get sent home. What I do to accomplish such is none of your business. I'm not looking to make friends. Just leave me the fuck alone," I snapped, my temper rising with each word. The girl looked back at me wide eyed, snapped her book shut and stood. Her wand was out in a flash.

"Look—I get you hate it here. I _get_ you're just this icy cow to the soul. But don't take out your anger on me. _I'm_ not going to be the one that's going to fulfill whatever you're after. So just leave me out of your warpath. Or I just might do something about it," she stated. Her voice wasn't angry. It wasn't even falsely sweet. It was just _normal_. Conversational. I tossed my sketch book aside and stood so I was facing her. I was average height—but I dwarfed this girl. She was positively tiny.

"I'd like to see you try," I remarked, trying to hold back my laugh.

"Don't test me. I may be small and I may not be speaking to you in a threatening manner—but I'm a force to be reckoned with." She replied with a small shrug. And then she turned on her heel and left. I watched her go until she was completely gone from sight and then settled back onto the seat. I had my sketchbook grasped in my lap and was attempting to finish the sketch of this girl. I couldn't. The unsettling feeling was back in the pit of my stomach. I hated myself. Really I did. But at least I can add her to the slowly growing list of enemies I'm building at this school. The bigger it gets—the better my chances.

* * *

**A/A: Alrighty—a tad bit on the boring side I suppose. But I wanted to get you guys **_**something**_** to read because I don't know when I'll be able to update next. I know a bunch of you were like—eh I'm kinda okay with Adder, wait strike that she's a bitch! But trust me—there's reasons she is the way she is. It's a new development for me to be writing a POV from the view of what would be classified as the 'protagonist' but stick with her. Hopefully this chapter (ugh—I hope it's not too lame) gave you some things to think about in terms of Adder. Let me know your opinions—I **_**love**_** to hear them!**

** In fact—I was on break at work when I got a majority of your reviews and there I was sitting in my break room grinning like a complete loon. They made my night completely! I love all you all and want to give a couple of thanks: **_**laura. **_**, the always lovely **_**Zepheus, **_**and whoever reviewed as **_**lovely**_**. You guys made my night. **

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	8. Chapter 7

"Oi! James, Kent. I need your help," I exclaimed, barging into their compartment on the train. Kaylie glanced up briefly from her large book and quickly raised it to cover her face completely. James and Kent merely looked up from the notebook they were huddled around.

"What's up? Need advice on how to charm that new girl further? You've already snogged her so it shouldn't be too difficult," James smirked. I gaped at him. I'm going to absolutely kill Dominique. Slowly and painfully. "Too soon?" he questioned, turning to Kent.

"Too soon, mate. Can't you see his ego is still healing?" Kent agreed, elbowing James in the side.

"How did you even _find out_?! I only told Dom like an hour ago!" I snapped, glaring around the room. Kent and James' eyes slid to Kaylie before back at me.

"Kaylie! Since when do _you_ have a fat gob?!" I snapped, going over and ripping her book from her hands. She looked appropriately guilty.

"I'm sorry! I sat with the new girl, Adder or something equally ridiculous, for a bit before the prefect meeting and she got on my nerves so of course I arrived to the meeting in an angry flurry. So Dominique told me the story afterwards because she didn't want to have to tell it to James himself–"

"Just stop—and don't go spreading it around. This is _not_ something I'm entirely proud of," I groaned, fisting my hair in my hands and plopping onto the bench beside her. There was a comforting hand on my shoulder as Kent and James giggled from across me.

"They've never really spoken to her Fred, don't worry. I get it," Kaylie declared—her voice coated with sympathy. "I almost hexed her."

"You should've," James piped up.

"Sorry, pet, I save that for you," Kaylie shot back.

"You wound me, love," James cooed.

"Back to the situation at hand," Kent coughed. I looked up—taking in his uncomfortable face as his sister and best mate made goo-goo eyes at each other. "Just stop it. I told you not to do that so much this year."

"Still smarting over that break up with Becca?" I questioned genially. Kent scowled at me which I returned with a smirk.

"Just drown yourself in the depths of the Black Lake, why don't you?" he scowled. What can I say? Bringing up one uncomfortable situation for another. I grinned amiably around the compartment, pushing my anger at their teasing aside and casually heading back to the door of the car. I had other things to bring up as of right now—I don't need to talk about this.

"Fine," I started, leaning against the door after I toed it open. "I _was_ going to privilege you two with the opportunity to help with the single most brilliant start of term prank Hogwarts has ever seen. But if you're going to be gits—I don't think I need your help."

"Better than when Uncle Fred and your Dad made all the toilets explode at the same time?" James questioned as Kent muttered something under his breath. It sounded distinctly like 'you're the bigger git', but he did look exceedingly curious. James was practically at the edge of his seat. Hook, line, and sinker.

"A million times better because we won't have to clean up all that toilet water without magic for the better part of a month," I laughed. James and Kent both looked equally contemplative (Kent no longer sullen about my bringing up his ex-girlfriend). My guess was that they would jump at the chance to pull a brilliant prank. They've been complaining about the lack of jokes they've pulled lately. They were mostly planning them and the satisfaction of a prank well pulled was absent in their souls. They exchanged looks and gave identical shrugs. I knew it was too much of an opportunity for them to pass up.

"We're in," James declared.

Kaylie snorted appropriately at this and snapped her book shut.

"I'll take my leave at this note," she declared. James and Kent gave her identical alarmed looks. Sometimes I wonder if _they_ were the twins instead of Kaylie and Kent. They often spoke with one mind.

"Why?" Kent demanded.

"Because if I leave now I won't know what you're up to. And if I don't know about it, I can't be dragged into the inevitable punishment," she sang, giving a waggle of her fingers in the direction of her brother and boyfriend. "I'll be with Liz if I'm truly needed."

She flounced out of the room as I pulled the rumpled piece of parchment out of my pocket, wiggled between the two of them and spread it across my lap.

"So, this is my plan–"

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"Jus' follow these here stairs into the castle 'n slip into the firs' door 'side the Great Hall," I was instructed by a man easily three times the size of a normal human being. I was forced to ride in a rickety boat, across a freezing lake, and into this damp docking area. The man was kind with a vast salt and pepper beard and twinkling black eyes, so of course I immediately tried to hate him. Not that I cared that he was kind, really. I didn't want to be here.

I wanted to ignore the vast beauty of this school and the stupid chattering little children surrounding me. I immediately tried turning on my heel when I exited the boat, but apparation obviously wasn't allowed on the grounds. Instead I dragged my feet up the stairs, pushing the trembling bodies aside. I forgot how absolutely _tiny_ eleven year olds were. They just flew backwards by a mere brush of my hand. Maybe most of it was my frightening presence and they just ran away from me, but it cleared a path nonetheless.

"Easy there, now!" the giant shouted from behind me. I blew a strand of my hair out of my eyes and shoved open the great wooden door at the top of my stairs with my shoulder, effectively ignoring him. It opened out into what appeared to be the Entrance Hall.

It was vast great open space with three sets of stair cases directly in front of me; one huge marble one ,at least three staircases wide going upwards and two going down flanking either side. Directly across from me were two large wooden doors, propped open to reveal a gargantuan room spread beyond. Students were already piled into four parallel tables and adults in grand robes were flanked on the table capping the four horizontally. I barely caught a view of thousands of floating candles hovering above the tables before yanking open the smaller wooden door set beside it.

The room was completely made of stone—like the Entrance Hall itself and I felt myself shudder. Of course I would be sent to a cold monstrosity of a place to live out my final year of schooling. It only made me steel further. I would not be here long. The room had a few portraits lining the walls—their frames empty of inhabitants. I stepped closer to them (ignoring the gigantic wrought-iron chandelier and the fireplace taller than me; they weren't important) to examine the thick brush work. Oil paints. They left a certain sheen amongst the canvas. Suddenly a rather large woman clad in billowing velvet robes popped her head out of one side of the frame.

"Who are you, young lady? Shouldn't you be with the other students? This room is reserved for first years," she trilled in a high soprano. I glanced up at her and grinned. Her cheeks and fleshy face were done spectacularly. I've had trouble with paints. With rosy cheeks especially. It always came out too garish and not subtle enough. I preferred charcoal.

"Who was your artist? You're portrait is beautiful," I stated, giving her a wry smile. Portraits were easier to befriend than actual humans. It was an exception to my hard exterior. I found them far too beautiful to hate. The portrait pursed her gigantic lips and tittered slightly.

"Why thank you. Joseph Armstinger painted me as well as my friend on the seventh floor. She guards a common room, you see. And _I_ often entertain very important guests that grace the castle," she declared, twirling her skirt around herself.

"I can tell he included modesty into his _Awakenings_ _Spell_," I laughed, letting my fingers brush ever so lightly along the bumps and grooves the pallet knife created. There was a burst of applause from the Great Hall beyond making me jump slightly.

"Well I have a _reason_ to be proud, dear. Now—I take it you're an artist yourself? No students show compliment to my wonderful brush work. You would have to have experience in the arts," she declared, plopping down on the large chair that was provided in the frame. Another round of applause, only slightly quieter.

"I dabble," I shrugged, bending closer to read the plaque.

_Lady Violet L'Holmes_

_1721-1821_

"You lived one hundred years exactly," I grinned. "Impressive."

"It was curse upon my household, you see. Each member of my family was meant to die on their ninety-ninth year. But, I lived to be one hundred!" she exclaimed, clasping her hands together. "Of course it is rather young for a witch to live—but _I_ broke the curse!"

"Do you have any ancestors?" I questioned. The applause was sporadic now—erupting every couple of seconds.

"Alas—I was never married," she declared, giving a loud wail.

"So technically it doesn't matter if you broke the curse at all. Nobody survived after you," I replied, holding back a snicker.

"You've got cheek, girl," Violet snapped, loudly blowing her nose with a lavender hankie. "What's your name?"

"Miss Ryan!" A voice exclaimed behind me. Violet shrieked in surprise and tumbled from her chair.

"Oh! Minerva, darling, you gave me quite a fright!"

"Terribly sorry Lady L'Holmes, I didn't intend such. And I apologize for your having to wait Miss Ryan. We had to complete the sorting of our first years before we could take care of you," the woman declared. She had a sharp and stern face matched with snow white hair pulled tightly into a bun. Her jade robes billowed out behind her as she walked further into the room with a small three legged stool in one hand and a very ragged hat in the other.

"It's not like I'm not a guest or anything," I spat back. Violet gave another shriek of surprise at my sudden change of tone and I heard her topple out of her chair once more.

"Of course you're not, Miss Ryan. You are a student and I treat each of my students equally—despite their parentage. What sort of Headmistress would I be if I didn't do such?"

"A smart one," I grumbled. Her lips pursed into a fine line as she examined me critically. I shifted uncomfortably under her roving eyes. I didn't encounter many people that made me shift—uncomfortably or otherwise—and I forced myself to keep my shoulders back and my glare level.

"I know Rowlings didn't require such, but here at Hogwarts we expect our students to be in full uniform for classes and feasts alike. I'll let you go with just robes for tonight but tomorrow morning I will anticipate that you will be in full and proper uniform at your first class," she declared, giving a wave of her wand and making a pair of general school robes fold themselves around me from nowhere. I put a lot of effort into that outfit. It was perfect mix of rebellious and fashionable—thank you very much. I immediately grunted and attempted to rip them from my shoulders—but they stayed put. "You will be able to remove them as soon as you reach your dormitory this evening. Now follow me so you can be sorted."

She immediately turned on her heel, without checking that I was following, and pushed into the brightly lit room. The noise level immediately lowered itself as she stepped into the light. She set the stool in front of the center of the staff table, facing the sea of faces peering curiously towards it.

"I am very sorry to keep you from what is probably a highly anticipated feast, but we have one more student that needs sorting," the Headmistress declared, doubling back and firmly leading me from my spot at the door of the anti-chamber. Every single pair of eyes followed me and whispering broke out amongst the tables. The tiny perceptive part of my brain that wasn't focused on being so rudely manhandled noticed that each table had a color scheme: scarlet, emerald, sapphire, and topaz. One would guess that would be what I was being 'sorted' into.

"This is Addison–"

I cut the headmistress off with a slight growl. She paused and raised her eyebrows at me before continuing on.

"As I was saying, this is Addison Ryan. She is transferring here from America to join us for her final year of schooling. I expect any house that ends up with her presence will treat her with welcoming respect," she declared, looking out amongst her student body. I scowled in response as she motioned for me to take a seat on the stool in front of me. Whispers broke out once more and this time snippets of the conversations floated back to me.

"She doesn't look happy."

"That's a Slytherin if I'd ever seen one."

"Where'd she come from?"

"Why in her last year?"

"You think she got kicked out of her last school?"

"That's probably why she had to escape her own continent."

"That's quite enough. Let's give Miss Ryan the same respect we give our first years," the Headmistress declared. Silence easily fell around the room as she guided me to sit upon the stool. How effing demeaning. Making me sit here in front of _everyone_ and have someone else decide where I belong. It was insulting—really, it was. I was about to open my mouth and argue this point in front of everyone when something cloth-like was set upon my head. It fell quickly over my eyes, blacking out the flickering light of the candles. I opened my mouth again to curse her but it turned into a gurgled shriek when a voice whispered in my ear.

_"Hmm, hostile are we?" _

"What the fu–"

"Miss Ryan!" the headmistress snapped amidst the tittering giggles beyond.

_"You're something. I see that you fight for what you want."_

I snorted. I didn't need a _hat_ to tell me this. I know this already. This is such a waste of my time.

_"I am just trying to place you. I am not trying to tell you anything you don't already know the answers to. You'd be good with Slytherin. They're like you—cunning, clever, quick to not let anyone butt into their beliefs. It's what they stand for, Slytherin. 'Where cunning folks use any means to achieve their ends'."_

Yeah, okay, it may seem that that's exactly where I belong. I _will_ do anything to get what I want. I won't be here for long anyways, so it doesn't really matter where you 'place me'. Just get this the fuck over with so I can get away from everyone.

_"Yes, Slytherin would seem to be just the place for you. But I see beyond this—for I am the Sorting Hat and there's nothing in your mind that I can't see. You're not like this at all, Addison Giselle Ryan. You cover your true personality with this hard Slytherin exterior."_

Bullshit. You're a fucking hat. How can you see the _true _me. Nobody sees the true me. I felt rather uncomfortable, sitting here being nitpicked by a hat while three hundred plus pairs of eyes scrutinized me. I couldn't even _see_ them checking out my every movement. I felt vulnerable here without my eyesight. I couldn't fight back with sneers or dirty looks.

"_But you don't belong there. No, not even close. That's why I place you in…_GRYFFINDOR!"

The hat was pulled from my head and every pair of eyes gaped at me. There was scattered applause. It wasn't the applause I heard for every first year that got sorted. It was pity applause. I wanted to throw the stool in their direction. I didn't need the applause from them, like I wanted to be here. The Headmistress pointed out the scarlet table—they all looked shocked and followed my every move down to their table. I plopped into a place at the very end and glared at the small boy next to me. He squeaked and trained his eyes back towards his golden plate. A normal person would be immensely upset over the fact that they were at a place where probably _everyone_ hated them, but I found myself smirking. It only made my life easier really—if they complained about me enough it might add to my ultimate demise here in England.

The Headmistress was speaking some more—about nonsense really; rules and guidelines that I was planning on breaking anyways. And then suddenly, food appeared at the center of the table making the wooden surface groan under the sheer weight. I was just reaching for a few legs of chicken (starving myself wasn't going to make my point—it would only make it more difficult on myself, though I did consider the option) when someone shoved the boy next to me over and took his spot. I repressed an almighty groan and busied myself with ladling out some mashed potatoes rather than speaking to the person next to me.

"So, Adder love, where'd you skip off to the other night?" Callen questioned, playing with a lock of my hair.

"I suggest you keep your hands to yourself before I hex them off," I replied in a falsely cheery voice. He dropped my hair, but placed the hand on my hip regardless. Does he _not_ understand the term 'hands to himself'?

"Anyways—it's crazy how we ended up in the same house, innit?" he purred, placing his chin on my shoulder. I shrugged him off and busied myself with eating. "I'd just like to tell you that my bed is always open to you."

I choked on my bite of sweet potato and choked back a laugh before turning to look at him for the first time. He had a lazy grin on his face and I'd never wanted to punch someone more. Okay, that's a lie, I have the _constant_ urge to punch someone but I've never wanted to act on it more.

"Let me see, how can I put this without insulting you completely?" I started. Callen opened his mouth to reply but I held up my hand, silencing him effectively. "Actually—I kinda_ want _to insult you, so I'm just going to say it. I was _using_ you Callen—to get to Fred. Which I accomplished and now I have no desire to be connected to you in anyway. And I never want to," I stopped and allowed a slight laugh, "join you in bed in anyway whatsoever. I'd rather curse my own vagina off before doing such. Though, I've been around guys like you and your bed itself would probably do that for me. So just go back to wherever you came from and stop trying."

Callen turned a very impressive shade of red and was about to open his mouth to respond when the doors to the Entrance Hall slammed open with the loudest of 'BANGS'.

Several girls let out small shrieks and I was about to roll my eyes when the 'door noise' was followed by loud rattling and clanging. All heads swiveled in the direction of the doors and the laughter carried down from the top of the table to where I was sitting. Between the aisles of the tables hundreds of suits of armor danced. The mamba, the cha-cha, two were ballroom dancing with each other, there were even a few doing ballet. It was quite a site. They flocked every available space, dancing spastically and knocking things over. Even I couldn't help but laugh, but as soon as I felt the first one bubble up from my stomach I cut it off and glared down at my plate. Does this school have occurrences like this often? Because I was going to have trouble keeping my hard exterior if that was the fact.

I chanced a glance towards the staff table and really did laugh then. That I can laugh at—the anger of authority figures. The Headmistress looked livid as the suits of armor continued their little dance party. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed three figures slid into the bench across from me. All three of them were beside themselves with laughter—red in the face and tears sliding down their cheeks in mirth.

"Best idea ever," Fred gasped, clutching his stomach. His dark haired cousin and another boy around his cousin's age had their foreheads pressed against the tables as they laughed.

"Genius, Kent. Pure genius to add that ballet thing in there," Fred's cousin gasped in between laughs.

"Best thing is—we can't get pinned for it!" they boy named Kent declared, practically falling off the bench in his laughter. The girl that sat with me on the train plopped down next to Kent (with only one contemptuous look in my direction) and nudged him.

"That's what you think," she declared, nodding her head in the direction of the staff table. I leaned around the smallish boy (it seemed as if Callen had moved during the chaos) and smiled broadly. The Headmistress was swiftly making her way over to us. I turned back to smirk at the four across from me when I noticed Fred had stopped laughing. Instead he was looking at me in surprise and definitely anger.

"What the bloody hell are you doing here?!" he declared, all semblance of laughter gone.

"I'm sitting at my House table," I replied over the noise of the still roaring laughter. A few of the braver students had jumped up from their seats and were dancing _with_ the suits of armor.

"No! No way in _hell_ this is your house table! This cannot be your house table!" he declared, standing now and planting his hands on the table.

"Mr. Weasley! Miss Ryan _was_ in fact sorted into Gryffindor," the Headmistress declared from directly behind him. His cousin and Kent immediately busied themselves with watching the show that was still escalading around us, looking everywhere but the looming figure behind them.

"But Professor McGonagall, that's impossible! She's _pure_ _evil_. The biggest Slytherin I've ever met!" he declared, gesturing wildly at me.

"Jeeze, Fred, that sure does make me feel welcome," I declared, widening my eyes and glancing at McGonagall.

"We will discuss your rudeness to our new student later, Mr. Weasley. Unfortunately I'm here to speak to you about the current situation."

It was like I didn't even exist anymore—Fred immediately changed demeanors when she brought up his 'club setting'. Pride overwhelmed him and he put on this unbelievably fake look of innocence.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Minerva dear," he declared, fluttering his eyelashes. McGonagall rolled her eyes and waved her wand. The noise stopped as the suits of armor collapsed on the spot—hitting the stone floor with a loud bang.

"Everyone go back to their meals!" McGonagall declared, turning to look at everyone else. The students that joined in the fun quickly sat back down and soon the laughter was replaced by general conversation and the clink of cutlery. "Now—about this prank, Fredrick."

"No proof?" Fred questioned cockily. The headmistress' lips seemed to disappear under anger.

"Where were you, Mr. Potter and Mr. Scott during the sorting?"

The two boys jumped at the mention of their names and put large smiles on their faces. All three boys spoke at once and each said things of different nature.

"The loo."

"The infirmary."

"The commons!"

They all glared at one another and began to argue in hushed whispers.

"I thought we agreed on the loos," Potter hissed as Fred frowned.

"No—we were saying that we had to get things from our trunks."

"I panicked," Kent admitted under his breath. "I don't know how I thought of the infirmary." The girl that intruded my airspace on the train smacked herself on the forehead and groaned slightly.

"That's evidence enough," McGonagall sighed, shaking her head slightly. She motioned to someone at the staff table. A man with a few scars on his cheeks and closely cropped brown hair. He looked resigned at the fact that he had to come over at our table and was munching on a chicken leg as he came over.

"I believe these three are your problem, Longbottom. I am going to go enjoy my afters," the headmistress declared, glaring at her pupils once more before sweeping off. The man stared down at the three boys with an expression mixed with amusement and anger.

"Hullo Neville," Fred declared genially. The man narrowed his eyes at him and Fred sighed. "I mean, hullo Professor Longbottom. Have a good feast?"

"It was rather delicious until I was interrupted by an interesting sight."

"It _was _rather interesting, wasn't it?" Potter piped up.

"New record this year, James. Before the feast even ends. I believe you beat your and Kent's from last year. The first day of classes was it? As for you Fred, I've stopped counting," he snorted, stepping aside and motioning with his arm. The three of them stood up begrudgingly and stuffed a few tarts in their pockets (the dinner had disappeared completely, giving way to an impressive array of desserts) and started to follow the Professor out of the hall. I looked up at McGonagall who gave a flick of her wand. The suits of armor picked themselves up off the floor and started out before Fred's little party. The Hall erupted into whoops and cheers so Fred jumped on top of a bench and took a bow. What a fucking cocky prick. Who does that, really?!

"Yes! Yes! Thank you Hogwarts for your support! This has been the final Start of Term Prank by Fredrick Arthur Weasley! I know—it was brilliant and will be talked about until my next inevitable prank but it wouldn't have been possible without the help of James Sirius Potter and Kenneth Miles Scott! Luckily you have them for one more year!"

The cheering raised a few more decibels as I helped myself to some chocolate pudding and attempted to ignore the ridiculousness surrounding me. This was hell—I don't know how I'm going to last any sort of extended period of time here. Honestly—if this is what things were going to be like I would rather beat my head in than be here. It only made me more determined to make _everyone_ around me as miserable as I was. Because if they were, they sure as hell would get rid of the root of the problem; frankly nobody wanted to be as miserable as I was.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

We were just about to leave Professor Longbottom's office and head back to our dorm, fresh with the punishment of having to place _every_ _single_ suit of armor back in their places without magic, when McGonagall's silvery cat patronus flew through the door.

"Can you send Mr. Weasley back up to my office, please? I wish to have a word with him," McGonagall's voice echoed around the room. Professor Longbottom looked up from the letter he was composing (to our parents, no doubt) and looked slightly alarmed but shrugged.

"Go on Fred. I'll see you boys at breakfast in the morning," he declared, flicking his wand. The door to his office swung open, allowing Kent, James and I to exit into the deserted hallway.

"What do you think she wants?" Kent questioned hesitantly. I knew exactly what she wanted to speak to me about. The situation, which was subsequently dwarfed by the prank, came flooding back at me. Everything came flooding back to me. I repressed a frustrated scream, merely punching the wall instead. Oh Merlin, that was a bad idea. I yelped and spurted a string of curses.

"She wants to talk to me about Adder," I grunted through clenched teeth. "I can't believe she's in our fucking house. She is the farthest thing from a Gryffindor." I think I broke my hand.

"That's house prejudice, mate," James piped up under his breath. "You know better than that."

"I'm just talking about her personality! She _doesn't_ belong with us," I exploded, cradling my hand to my chest. "I just thought I would be able to successfully avoid her all year."

"Fred—that's what she wants, for you to avoid her. Why don't you just shove it right back in her face? If anyone can take that she-witch on, it's you," James declared, stopping at the gargoyle guarding McGonagall's office. I blinked at him. "I'm surprised you hadn't thought about it before. Really, it seems like something you would do. Throw it back in her face, not cower away."

"I was just so bruised that I didn't think of it," I shrugged, the idea dawning on me. He was right. This wasn't the way Fred Weasley acts. Fred Weasley doesn't let a girl chase him away. Fred Weasley fights back. So at that moment I turned to the gargoyle with a new attitude. I was going to fight back. I was going to make her regret making a fool of me. James and Kent bid me goodbye as I ordered the gargoyle aside and rose the staircase up. I stalked into the office like I owned the place (I've been in it enough that I practically did) and plopped down in the chair across from my stern headmistress.

"Sup Minnie?" I questioned, giving her a big smile. She gave me a stern look but ignored the use of her first name, merely examining me above her fingertips.

"In regards to your rather colorful outburst towards our new student," she began. I raised my eyebrows—I knew it. But now—I was ready for it. "I'm going to request that you be Miss Ryan's guide around Hogwarts."

"Jeeze, I feel like you could _try_ to be less predictable in your punishments," I sighed. McGonagall flared her nostrils at me and I gave her an apologetic smile.

"I feel, as your Headmistress, I should ask you exactly what your aversion is with Miss Ryan?"

"It's rather personal, m'am." I replied with a small shrug. She glared me down so I sighed and relented what I could. "She played me. And being the very prideful being that I am, I didn't take to it."

"Hell hath no fury like a lover scorned," a voice piped up from behind her. I looked up at the portrait of Albus Dumbledore and frowned.

"I never said anything about lovers, Professor," I replied, slightly alarmed that a man of his age would bring up anything in the direction of 'lovers'.

"It's a quote, dear boy. Of course it substitutes 'lover' for 'woman'," Dumbledore announced. "But the idea holds true."

"It was a disagreement. It had nothing to do with sex," I announced. McGonagall looked at me with raised eyebrows.

"I don't want to know, Mr. Weasley," she sighed, making a shooing motion with her hands. "I expect you to uphold my standards when you guide Miss Ryan through our halls. And try not to punch things anymore. That hand does not look well. I request for you to go down to Madame Harvey and get it repaired."

I smirked and stood up, sensing dismissal. Of course I was going to uphold her standards. I wouldn't _dream_ of doing anything less. It was that pure fact that would drive Adder _insane. _I was going to shove _everything _she's being dishing out at me right back at her.

"Professor, you can count on me," I declared, feeling the mischievousness bubble up from within me. I was just shutting the door to her office when I heard her mutter to Professor Dumbledore.

"I'm going to regret this punishment, Albus."

* * *

**A/A: AHA! You got **_**two**_** chapters in **_**two **_**days. You should feel honored and such. But because I've been so kind to y'all, wanna give me a few reviews? I would really appreciate it since I have work and school throwing up on me. It would make my day. Love you all!**

**Forever yours magically, **

**Emily**


	9. Chapter 8

"_Addison, dear, _that's_ how a proper young lady is supposed to dress_. _Just look right here._"

_I blinked at my surroundings. It was hazy—like everything was in the background and the eye had yet to sharpen its lines and curves. I brought my hands up before my eyes and peered at them. They were still the long slender fingers of my age but the chipped black polish and multiple rings on each finger had disappeared. Instead of my ragged nails, ten perfectly curved and smooth nails glared up at me beneath a perfect French manicure._

"_Sweetheart, tell me what you think of Alfonzo's choices today," a voice persisted. I felt pressure on my shoulders and was turned completely around. I blinked again and took a tentative step forward towards the mirrored glass. Tentatively I reached out a fingertip and touched the surface. It was real. The person reflected really was me. Back was my dark hair with its thick masses twisted into an elegant knot at the nape of my neck. Gone was the thick, dark liner from around my sharp, almost unnervingly blue eyes. Gone were the leather, the black, and the ripped. In its place was a shell pink, black and white plaid skirt that brushed the top of my knees and a delicate chiffon top that tied at the hollow of my throat in a loose bow. This wasn't me. That's hasn't been me._

"_Darling, stop slouching so. It's unbecoming."_

_Before I could stop myself my shoulders rolled themselves back in a way that was nowhere close to seductive. My back went straight and my neck long. I should've been able to see the voice. I could see the foggy room stretched behind me through the looking glass. But the voice was disembodied, just a reminder of what could be. I whipped around and felt the sharp turn of each desperate search. I had to find it. I needed to find it. It was like my heart would burst if I didn't. A door materialized at the back of the room and I started towards it. The voice drifted from behind the mahogany wood. _

"_Can you come do the clasp on my pearls? They keep slipping between my fingers. It's this new moisturizer."_

_I felt my pace quicken as I clasped the brass knob in my palm. I almost recoiled. It was ice cold, rather than the sun warmed temperature I expected. I don't know why I expected sun warmed in a foggy place such as this. _

"_That new lippy color is divine."_

_I froze. That wasn't right. It didn't work with this picture. _

"_I figured I'd spice it up this term, yeah?"_

_The voices were bouncing around the room. I wanted to shout at them to shut up. They were drowning out the important stuff. I didn't need these extra presences._

_And I was jolted. I didn't need this persona. This wasn't me. This couldn't be me. I clawed at the tie at my throat. It was becoming too restricting. The skirt was squeezing my abdomen. It was like I was apparating but I could see the room gain focus. It was home. The thick carpeting under my feet. The heavily wooded walls. I was home but was mute to everything._

"_Someone should probably wake her."_

"_That's what _I'm_ here for, ladies!"_

_And then there were screams. _

I sat bolt upright with a muffled scream of my own. It mimicked the sounds around me and left me confused. The screaming was in my dream—and now it was…oh for the love of Merlin! Why did girls always have to fucking _shriek_?! I was inches from ripping back the dusty velvet hangings around my bed so I could give them an acidic piece of my mind, when I froze.

"How the bloody hell did you get up here?!"

"I flew a broom, obviously," a deeper voice laughed. I felt my blood boil slightly and yanked the covers over my shoulder. Back to sleep it is. No need to show my face in _his_ presence.

"You couldn't give us warning? I just divided my face in half with lippy," a thick accent sighed. I pulled the pillow over my face. "But thanks for letting me know about the whole broom thing. I'll be sure to tell Corey."

"Well hell, Fred, did you have to tell her that? The dorm was the only place we could escape their petting," one deadpanned.

"Sorry Carrie. Parks, you're not allowed to use these means to snog your boyfriend in your dorm. Now is that her?"

"Yes, Fredrick. That would be her. It _is_ the last bed with the hangings closed."

He wouldn't dare.

"Kelly—you wound me with your spunk, pixie. I'll see you down at breakie, yeah? If I don't make it bring me something to Charms?"

There was a large put out sigh.

"Yeah—but remind me why I do nice things for you when you fill my shoes with pudding? I had already put my feet in them this morning before I actually noticed."

There was a roar of laughter and it was a few more seconds before Fred composed himself.

"Because you love me despite my brilliant pranks and I'm such a good snog, Kel," was his reply. There was an indignant squeak.

"That is a drunk-only thing and we _don't _bring it up sober! I don't know _why_ it happens, it just always seems to happen!"

The slamming of a heavy wooden door and more snickers.

"Merlin Fred, now I'm going to have to hear her gripe about that for at _least_ two lessons. Thanks bunches."

A few pairs of receding footsteps.

"You're welcome, Carrie love!"

Door slamming again and then silence. I burrowed further under the covers and blinked at the wall of blankets before my eyes. I was trying to pick out pieces of my dream but couldn't. It left me with an unnerved feeling that made the back of my throat burn uncomfortably. All I remembered were pieces. Manicured nails, slender fingers, and a voice that niggled at my mind. It was familiar, almost a part of me but I didn't recall it clear enough to place its origin. Suddenly the barrier around me tinted a faint red as the sound of curtains ripping against their rod filled my ears. For fucks sake—did he not go with them?!

"Wakey, wakey, Adder."

I'll punch him.

"I'm not afraid to use my wand."

Forget it. If that wand gets used on me I'll do more than punch him. I'll castrate him or something worse. Not that I can think of anything worse than castration. Nail clippers feel like a sizeable weapon of choice.

"You're honestly leaving me no choice love," he sang as the covers were ripped from over my head. I sat bolt upright and glared at him levelly.

"You touch me Weasley, magic or not, and you'll be sorry," I growled, trying to snatch the blankets back from him. His grip tightened and a small smirk grew on his lips.

"So you _are_ awake. Now get up—we're going to miss breakfast and I'm starving."

"Who the _hell_ do you think you are?" I snorted flopping backwards on the mattress and languidly crossing my arms behind my head. He really shouldn't have told me what he specifically wanted; now he was _never_ going to get it from me. Not that I was planning on getting out of bed today anyways. Class just doesn't seem very _fun_ at the moment.

"Well—I'm Fredrick Arthur Weasley. Eighteen as of June 20th. Member of the Weasley family. Your personal guide here at Hogwarts. Star beater on our house Quidditch team. Superior prankster. A completely dashing and debonair bloke—"

"_What_?"

"Oh c'mon! I know you snogged me out of some little game you play within your own mind but you had to notice my dashingly good looks in the process, yeah?"

"Cut the shit, Weasley. You know what I'm talking about," I snapped, sitting up and looking him straight in the eye. A fleck of amusement flickered there as I steeled my own eyes.

"What—me being your personal guide here at school? Yeah—it's not a self-appointed position. But I am rather partial with this outcome," he shrugged, flopping down on the edge of my bed and lying back across my legs. I kicked him away disdainfully and took a covert breath. This wasn't supposed to happen. My victims, so to say, weren't supposed to come back to haunt me. They weren't supposed to bring up the situation. They weren't supposed to be smiling at me. And they especially weren't supposed to be lying on my _bed_. They were supposed to be nursing their wounded egos and staying as far away from me as possible. "Now are you going to get dressed or do you need my assistance with that as well, Ryan?"

"Wrong on both accounts. You will _not_ be my guide to _anything_ and I am _not_ getting out of bed."

"Oh—throwing a temper fit now? Ryan—I thought you were more mature than that. Honestly," he taunted, jumping up and striding over to the side table where the jug of water and a cup sat. He poured himself a glass and eyed me with pure glee in his eyes. He was challenging me. _Challenging _me. Challenging _me_. Well fuck him.

"I _don't _throw temper fits," I snapped.

"Oh—do they have a different name for what you're doing now in America?" he questioned, cocking his head to the side innocently. "Because in England big boys and girls actually go to school without throwing such fits."

Now he was _mocking _me.

"Leave." I commanded through gritted teeth.

"Not going to happen. I promised McGonagall I would show you around to your lessons. And a prankster I may be but I don't go back on my word." He replied with a small shrug.

"I meant so I can get dressed, Weasley," I snapped, pointing at the door. A grin spread across his face as he finished off the water.

"Hmm—that took a lot less than I anticipated. I'll be on the landing. But if you're not out in five minutes I'll be coming in and resorting to force despite the state of dress you are in at the mo'."

I opened my mouth to either cuss him out or make some sort of arguing point but he held up his hand shocking me to silence for just a moment. I don't get interrupted often.

"Now you may be tough as dragon scales, love, but I'm still bigger than you."

And he walked out of the room leaving me fuming behind. I hated that I was giving in to what he wanted. It wasn't going to get me out of here faster. But I couldn't, no I wouldn't, just let him stand there and mock and challenge me. I had to rise to him and show him otherwise. It was my instinctive nature. It made me sick. I shouldn't be rising to his bait. I should be staying in bed as if my life depended on such. Well fine. I'll go downstairs but he's not getting me into that stupid uniform. I mean ties for females? How punk-rock-nineties. It so wasn't going to happen. If I'm going to class—I'm going on my terms.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

I leaned against the wall and examined my wrist watch, watching the second hand slowly tick down the time I was allotting my charge to change. I felt like taking a nap and I've only been dealing with the terror for about a half hour. It was difficult to continue to pretend like she didn't irk me but I was determined to give her the exact opposite of what she expected of me. She obviously expected me to avoid her at all costs, hate the ground she walked on, and nurse my ego. Well, no. I was going to be on her like a permanent sticking charm. I was going to drive her bonkers. It was going to be great. I glanced briefly at my watch again and slammed a fist on the door.

"You have thirty seconds, Ryan!" I bellowed, slinging my broom over my shoulder. The door flew open and Adder glared at me, scrunching up her unbrushed fiery locks beneath her fingers. My eyes flicked over her body for the briefest of seconds. She raised an eyebrow at me and examined her fingernails.

"Like what you see?" she purred, looking at me from beneath her lashes. I felt the air leave my chest slightly before I steeled myself again.

"That's not exactly uniform, love," I commented, motioning to her with my free hand. She rolled onto the edges of her motorcycle boots and looked down at herself. It was all leather, ripped tights and tight black jumper.

"I felt the addition of the tie was appropriate," she smirked, fiddling with the end of her loosely tied Gryffindor scarf. "Ironic, really. Wearing the very article that's the most ridiculous requirement."

"Hey—it's my job to get you to lessons. Not to force you into the uniform. May the snitch be in your palm, love," I snorted.

"You know, about that whole class thing. I'm not really partial to showing up to such," Adder sighed. I raised an eyebrow at her. She wasn't going there. I glanced over my shoulder at the winding staircase before back at her. With a motion that should've belonged to a seeker my free arm snatched out and wound her around the waist and whirled around so I could see the stairs. She was pressed flush up against my chests and her ice blue eyes widened briefly before it all settled around her. The response was instantaneous. She tensed, she growled, and she ripped my arm from around her.

"What the _fuck_ is wrong with you?!" she snarled, balling a fist and stepping back so she was on the top step. I ignored the fact that she was probably going to sock me in the nose and quickly stepped forward so my feet were also planted on the top step, pressing ourselves flush once more. The wailing alarm pierced the near silent air like a spell shot through dust and the ground sloped beneath our feet. With a small shriek Adder tumbled backwards, grabbing onto the open edge of my robes as she went. I was planning on brooming it down but I lost my balance and went sprawling down the stone slide, landing in a heap on top of Adder at the bottom.

"Will. You. Get. _Off of me_," she shrieked in a flurry of arms and legs. A powerful blow connected somewhere on my shoulder once I finally detached myself and rolled to the side.

"Oi! I was off of you!" I declared, rubbing the spot gingerly as I sat up.

"That was on principle, you dick!" Adder snapped, sitting up and rubbing the back of her head.

"I warned you I would use force! So it wasn't _me_ exactly—but it was still a clever way to get you bloody downstairs," I grumbled.

"You _touched _me!" she spat.

"And you touched me. Go on and scour the spot. It's not that big of a bloody deal. Calm down woman. Now giddup. We're going to be late." I commanded, standing up and actually looking out at the common room. A few sixth years and Darren, my dorm mate, were running behind. They had stopped whatever they were doing and were watching us plainly with apt fascination.

"If you think I'm going anywhere with you after that stunt, Weasley, you've got another thing coming!" Adder announced, fisting her hands on her hips.

"I told you I'd resort to force, Ryan. I thought I just proved such?" I smirked, mimicking her stance.

"Using a slide is hardly force. I'd honestly like to see you try to make me do anything," she snapped.

"Do I have to prove myself time and time again?" I sighed, lightly drawing my wand. Adder's was instantaneously in her hand and pointed at my chest.

"I wouldn't try to pit magic against me. You'll lose," she smiled. It was a beckoning smile. Challenging me to do such, to use magic against her. I knew I could take her—I was a pretty fair dueler but this wasn't really the venue. Darren caught my eye from across the room and with a flick of his own wand Adder went rigid. I caught her and grinned genially at him.

"Thanks," I sighed, righting her and levitating her slowly. "I'm honestly not in the mood to repair the common room after we inevitably would destroy it."

"Figured you'd needed help. Shit—no wonder Callen is talking dragon-dung about her. She's a nightmare. Even compared to him," Darren whistled, hoisting his bag up his shoulder and heading towards the portrait hole. "See you Herbology."

I gave him a small wave and gathered my own bag before following him out of the portrait hole. I glanced up at my floating follower as I headed towards one of my favorite secret passageways. Once concealed behind the tapestry, I reversed the spell.

"What the fuck kind of cheap shot was that?! Hit a person from behind! Cowardly! It was a cheap shot!" Adder shouted immediately. Her fist rang out several times, striking me against the chest until I caught it in my own hands. For such a large personality, she sure was small. Tall—yes, almost as tall as me. But her features and her _hands_, they were positively titchy.

"I told you I had my ways. The process of such doesn't matter. All's fair in my wars," I declared calmly.

"Oh, so this is war now? You want war, Weasley? You've got it!" she declared, turning to stalk back up the stairs.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you," I sighed. She paused then and turned on me again. It always took me by surprise. The amount of fire she could exert into her eyes.

"Why not?"

"Because you'll get lost, Ryan. I specifically took a moving staircase to get to this shortcut. It'll lead you to some remote part of the castle most likely. You're much better off sticking with me," I shrugged.

"I'd rather get lost then stick with you," she snapped.

"You might as well come with me. At least then you'll be on the ground floor where a staircase won't lead you up or down randomly. They like to do that. Almost as bad as Peevesy, those staircases."

I said each word carefully and calmly. My strategy thus far was to be the complete opposite of her. It drives people insane. Trust me—I've perfected it on Roxy. We stood there at a complete standstill. With a put upon sigh I glanced at my watch. I really was going to be late to Charms. Flitwick was more lenient but I wasn't looking forward to the inevitable scolding from Dominique. That always was a pain in the arse.

"Fine—get lost then, Ryan. Honestly, it's no wood off my wand. I have proof that I tried to be your guide. Should be enough for McGonagall," I shrugged, smiling genially and turning on my heel. Two can play at the whole 'I don't care game'. With a small spring in my step I headed down the stairs and even when I turned the corner I didn't hear footsteps behind me. Erm—maybe that didn't work exactly as planned but I would figure her out in the end. People were easy—once you figured out what they wanted to gain you could sell them the product. It was all a matter of sales.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

This was no good. At all. Nope. I needed to get out of here! Aimlessly I wandered the halls, fuming about the hour or so between my waking up and now. I was starving and angry. A horrid combination for me. And I was lost. So that made me even angrier because he was right. I thought I was heading back in the general direction of my dormitory but somehow I was lower than I thought. When I looked out the window I was just at the tops of the trees and I knew the dormitory was far taller than that. With a frustrated groan I gave a harsh kick to the wall.

"_Shit_," I swore, grabbing at my toe and hopping on one foot. The walls were really solid. With a few more choice curses I flipped around so I could slide down the wall. Leaning hard against it I yanked off my boot and examined my toe. No blood and I don't think it was broken. Gently I rest my head back against the wall and stared blankly at the portrait across from me. It was another oil painting but the frame was empty. Its plush landscape stared serenely back at me—waving softly in whatever breeze was charmed within.

I was honestly at my wits end. It hasn't even been half a day and my head was already spinning. Everything was so different. My common room loud and my room louder. I wasn't used to having roommates. At Rowlings I'd finagled my own room since I was fourteen. Since that age I haven't done well with people. I don't have many friends anymore. People tire me. It's hard keeping up this tough persona constantly. It's tiring having to be this way and I cherished those times alone where I could just draw.

With a put upon sigh I yanked my sketch book out of my bag and flipped to a spare page. It was filled with just small profile sketches. People I've encountered so far, people back home. Just their heads and shoulders. Their faces. Their expressions. I found myself sketching out a strong jaw, hair with a slight curl, slightly longer nose, half smirk. I was disgusted with myself. Why was I drawing him? Yes, he was a perfect specimen. Every expression was different. No two smiles were the same. His eyes would crinkle up differently, or his nose would smudge slightly. Just a flash of teeth. A pull at the corner of his lips. A cocked eyebrow. It was fascinating and I couldn't stop myself.

Slowly the morning sun rose and streamed through the windows, falling in a solid beam across my paper. It turned a milky white, the sketch lines harsh in comparison. I had lost myself in drawing yet again. It was such sun and the immense hunger pains that drew me into the real world. I flipped back through my sketches. Two whole pages of him. Profile, full body, facial. All different expressions and looks. It scared me. I shouldn't be obsessing over a subject for such a length of time. With a small shudder I shoved the sketch book back in my bag, my face hot with shame. I'm losing my edge.

"Young lady!" A voice called out, making me jump. I quickly arranged my face in a scowl and whirled around to locate the person. My eye finally settled on a kindly looking monk in the grassy landscape. "You have been here for quite a length of time."

"What's it to you?" I grumbled, crossing my arms over my chest and pulling the sleeves of my sweater over my hands.

"I was just inquiring as to your absence from your lessons. You seem to be of learning age and I believe it's not quite dinner time, yet."

Despite my rude response the portrait was rosy and kind. His eyes alight with merriment and his cheeks rosy. I took a step forward and examined his short, quick brush strokes. They were purposeful and quite beautiful.

"I'm not really one for classes," I shrugged, pondering to myself how one could make an oil portrait so smooth. There were no paint ridges by a pallet knife. It was captivating.

"Well dinner approaches, young lady. Would you be one for such?"

"I guess so. I wish I didn't have to face everyone—but I am hungry and could do with lunch," I sighed, musing up my hair. The portrait smiled.

"Hiding from the world will get you nowhere. You must face your cowardice and stand tall. You doth protest such results, lady."

"Yeah, yeah. Save the lecture. Can you show me the way?" I questioned with a slight smile.

"Ah—I believe I could be your guide. Follow such," he declared, holding his arms wide and starting to the right. He disappeared for a moment before appearing into the picture next to him. We walked in silence. Curving down stairs and going through doors. I was surprised by the lack of people I ran into. It was a big school, but not that big. My inquires were answered when we arrived in the main entrance. The buzz of people was palpable just beyond the open doors.

"Ah the merriment of a dinner well spent. It was a delight keeping your company. I hope you choose to come and visit me again. It was lovely watching you partake in the arts. You have such a will about you while you draw, lady," he declared—giving a slight wave and starting off in the opposite direction. I was just about to walk through the doors when they slammed open to release a few girls. They all eyed me openly, keeping completely silent until they were behind my back. Then they burst into laughter.

"Did you see what she was wearing? How positively ghastly," one of the girls snorted. I turned around and glared at their backs before pushing into the hall. I dropped into the first available seat but it was too late—most eyes were trained upon me and my arrival. There was silence as I loaded a plate with a few sandwiches and potato chips. Taking a huge bite I looked around myself—daring for someone to make another comment.

Someone cleared their voice behind me and I whirled around—prepared to give whoever dared to bug me a good cussing to, but froze. It was the man from last night, my Head of House. He was frowning down at me, dirt streaked across his nose.

"I was informed you didn't attend any of your morning lessons," he started, his voice level. I shrugged and took another big bite of my sandwich. "And that isn't exactly uniform." Again, I shrugged. "Was Mr. Weasley an inadequate guide?"

Perfect. I quickly swallowed and put on a simpering smile.

"He was positively awful, sir. Just walked on without me. I _tried_ to manage on my own, but got lost and gave up. It wasn't until this lovely portrait guided me here that I found my way. I probably would still be wandering the castle now if that monk hadn't been so kind."

"You're something, young lady," the man snorted. "OI! Mr. Weasley—over here. Now."

"Which one Professor? I can go get Lou for you!" Fred declared from the other end of the table.

"Don't get cheeky with me. Get down here," he sighed. Fred groaned and stood trudging down to our end of the table. He grinned slightly when he noticed me sitting there and plopped down directly next to me. I refrained from grimacing and punching him in the face—adopting a hurt look instead.

"Miss Ryan claims that you walked on without her this morning."

Fred gave me a shocked look before frowning slightly.

"Playing this way, eh? Professor Longbottom. It was because of me she's actually out of bed. I _tried_ to get her to come with me but she flat refused. Ask Darren. He had to petrify her so we could get her out of the commons." Fred stated plainly. He's not supposed to _snitch_.

"I'm not going to ask how you got up in the girls dorm. I'll just see you in the greenhouses tonight for it. Be sure to bring along Miss Ryan. I feel she should join us, eh? Now I'll see you _both_ in Herbology after lunch. I'll escort you to class myself, Miss Ryan. I also expect you in uniform tomorrow, Miss Ryan or I'll have McGonagall on your case. See you two in lessons," Longbottom declared before stalking back to the staff table.

"Yeah—sure, like I'm actually going to show tonight," I snorted under my breath, abandoning my sandwich and pulling my sketch book from my bag.

"He'll make sure you do. Trust me. That man has his ways. I think it was because he grew up under my dad's target," Fred laughed from over my shoulder. I hunched over to conceal my drawing and continued on one of my earlier pieces. "What are you doing?"

"What the fuck does it look like I'm doing, genius? I'm sketching," I snapped, wheeling on him.

"You draw?" he questioned with raised eyebrows. I stored the image in my mind. It was a good expression to sketch later.

"No—I whore myself out through these pieces of paper. What the hell else would I mean? Are you stupid, honestly?"

"You curse more than me," he laughed, trying to peer around my shoulder. I snapped the cover shut as a gigantic gong sounded. "It's rather unlady-like."

"Maybe I'm sick of being a lady," I growled, attempted to join the throng of students out of the door. Longbottom cut me off before I could and I hefted a large sigh. This was going to be a long process.

* * *

**A/A: I'm not sure about this chapter. I know it's been forever and a day since I've updated but I'be been beyond busy with work and school and then I got this nasty ass virus. Tell me what you think. I might delete and redo this chapter—go a different direction. I don't know yet. But there's an update for you all!**

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	10. Chapter 9

"Okay! Welcome seventh years! Dear, I cannot believe how many of you stayed on N.E.W.T level. I know you were here last year but it's still just so befuddling. To think eight of you actually stayed on in Muggle Studies. It's rare—even with the change of times. But good news is—we have an odd number now! Odd numbers are a great sign according to Trelawney and we all know how she fascinates me so! Any who, we welcome one more to our midst today. Addison Ryan—where is she?"

I sank lower in my seat to become more inconspicuous, which was difficult considering there were so few in this class to begin with. It was surprise to me that I was even in class to begin with. I don't do class. I don't do structure period. Yet the teachers in this joint don't seem to want to leave me alone. They follow me relentlessly and escort me to classes (and detentions because I still have managed to raise hell even though my attendance was disgusting). I just want to have some air to breathe but they make it impossible.

The only class I ever attended at Rowlings was Muggle Studies. And finally it'd arrived here at Hogwarts—in the end of my second week. I didn't even need to be grabbed from bed this morning because I just went straight down to breakfast and to class after that. It got a great reaction. Anyways—this was the class I was _actually_ looking forward to. But of course a psycho school like this would have a deranged teacher.

The man was short, much like my Charms professor, but more sprite-like. He was miniature in stature and slight like a wind would blow him away. His eyes were the lightest shade of lavender that twinkled beneath two chubby cheeks. He reminded me of a muggle portrayal of Santa's elves, except his robes were what looked to be like purple linen and not the classic red and green velvet they often wear in pictures. His voice though, it pricked the stereotype perfectly—it was like bells. Rather suiting to his name—Professor Jangle.

"Ah! There you are! No need to be in the very back corner there. Come join us on the floor. We have a very open atmosphere in this classroom. We are all friends here!"

I sank lower in my seat in the corner. This spot was such a great place until everyone else joined the room. I didn't realize that the large pillow covered space on the floor was actually utilized. The prospect seemed rather ridiculous but now I was regretting that train of thought. Every eye was trained on me. A certain pair of indigo eyes leaped from the small crowd of faces and I felt myself scowl further. He was in _every single one of my classes. _I was banking on the fact that he wouldn't take a class as obscure as Muggle Studies. But there he was, sauntering through the door surrounded by people. I've come to learn that Mr. Weasley was quite the popular one. Callen was also in the class as well as one of my dorm mates, Parker Finnigan. Another two I would've thought wouldn't touch Muggle Studies with a fifty foot Quidditch hoop.

"I think I'll stay here, thanks," I managed to get out. Smirks all around. I could sense that they were expecting this. I had been giving similar points of argument all week and since each face was in at least one other of my classes they've given audience to such. If it wasn't about my uniform

(Which I've been wearing begrudgingly but it was always slightly sloppy. Un-tucked, sleeves rolled up, hacked up robes and sometimes covered in charcoal. Okay most always with smudges of charcoal. They should just be happy I was wearing it at all), it was about my attitude or lack of homework. Or lack of participation. Or my language. Or backtalk.

I was raising hell—which was why I've had a detention a night. I didn't have a weekend. Which they should really think about. How was I going to get my homework done if I was always in detention? Yeah—like I would do it anyways but it's the principle of the matter. Honestly—when were they going to realize I don't care about being in detention? I never do the tasks assigned (much to their frustration); I just sketch until they get annoyed and have me leave. And they've completely stopped taking away 'points' after the first day. They figured why penalize the whole house when I didn't give an owl's ass about whether we win the inter-house competition or not?

"I really must insist you join us up here, Addison dear," the Professor squeaked. I scowled at him fiercely, making the small man squirm slightly. So he's a pushover. Interesting.

"She prefers Adder, sir. She'll be more unresponsive than usual when you call her Addison," a voice piped up. There was a small ripple of laughter across the room making me want to growl and chuck things at Weasley's head. Heavy things preferably.

"Like she'd do anything anyways. I heard Vector talking about how she exploded her cauldron on purpose her first day back just so she could get out of the lesson," a girl with smooth tan skin and jet black hair whispered to Parker. The two burst into giggles and I couldn't help but smirk even if they were being gossipy bitches. It worked, didn't it? Mission accomplished.

"Now Miss Patil, Miss Finnigan, let's settle down. I'm very sorry Adder. Come join us. There's a particularly squishy pillow next to Paxton here," Jangle announced, beckoning with his small hands. A sullen boy in a silver and green tie looked up from the paper he was shredding with his wand and connected eyes with me. The tall, languid, Amazonian girl next to him pursed her lips and fiddled with her own snake-embellished tie. With a small perk of his lips he patted pillow next to him. Every eye was upon me and I could practically read their thoughts.

They all knew I was going to refuse it. Possibly try to get kicked out of class. But despite wanting to do just that, I felt a pull towards the diagrams and posters adorning the wall. All unmoving. All muggle. They were fascinating and I _knew_ the key to being a good artist was knowing all facets of human behavior and that key especially related to Muggles. There were few great wizards artists after all. So with a small huff I snatched my bag from my feet and strutted over to the empty pillow.

It deflated as soon as my ass touched it making me wiggle uncomfortably for a few moments before it inflated slightly. I looked down at it and quickly around the room. Fred was smirking triumphantly as he stored his wand back into the pocket of his robes. With a small growl I quickly poked it with my own wand—returning it to its original (uncomfortable) state. Fred frowned slightly but was soon distracted by Callen whispering something in his ear.

I leaned back on my hands, wishing I could hear what they were saying because it was undoubtedly about me. Callen had seemed to forget my snub to him in the Welcoming Feast. All it took was a few days of badmouthing but suddenly one morning he was wrapped around some other girl and was perfectly friendly to me once again, much to my annoyance. Nobody was leaving me alone—especially Fred. That was the most frustrating.

"Now—I want you all to break into groups and compile a list of the Muggle culture you encountered over the holiday. Just an easy little thing to get the cobwebs out of your brain from a long break! Groups of three now. Yes, yes. Fred, Hollis, Callen. Ethan, Dansey and Parker. Leaving—perfect! You three there, group up!"

Jangle motioned to the two Slytherins and me, making copious cupping motions with his hands and moving them in circular motions. The two exchanged looks before angling their bodies slightly in my direction. There was a moment of tense silence before the girl piped up.

"Why in _fucks sake_ are you in this lesson? Word is you haven't voluntarily shown to anything since start of term."

"Maybe I don't like doing what people expect of me," I spat back.

"But this of all classes! Honestly," the girl simpered.

"Sage, don't be a bitch. Leave the new girl be," the boy laughed, repairing the pile of shredded parchment in his lap. "So new girl—what Muggle culture have you encountered over your holiday?"

"We're actually going to do this lame-brained assignment?" Sage piped up again. I wanted to dispute her—but she was kinda right. This was a third-year level assignment. Not N.E.W.T level.

"I plan on putting down hippogriff shit in the end. Honestly I'm just trying to get this girl to speak. I haven't heard her say anything but acid since she's got here and I have two classes with her."

"We do?" I questioned with a small snort.

"Yeah, this and Defense. Don't worry—I won't hold it against you for not noticing. I'm quiet."

"Paxton—quit humoring her. She's not going to be your friend or anything," Sage whined. I suppressed rolling my eyes and zeroed in on the two of them. This could be interesting. Two possible enemies created at once? Maybe. Things were settling down too much. There's only so much shock my mouth could earn me. I needed to hype things up a bit.

"I've just been too busy attempting to dodge my human shadows to notice others in my class." I announced with a small laugh. The room went slightly quieter before the talking continued again. Several pairs of eyes were pretending to not be looking at me so I put on the show they were looking for. Sliding slightly closer to this boy and looking at him out of the corner of my eyes. Sage stiffened slightly.

"Yes—they do have a rather tight leash on you, don't they? I don't think they've been this intensive since the Second War itself."

"Well they wouldn't want to upset people would they?" I grumbled, before realizing I might have said something stupid. "Have to make an example of me, don't they?"

"Management has to make examples of everyone," Paxton replied with a shrug of his skinny shoulders. I eyed him impassively for a moment. He wasn't that difficult to look at. Seems that most of the boys across the great pond were made well. He wasn't as brawny as the guys in my House—slighter, more delicate. With sharp hazel eyes and tousled brown hair. He seemed to think more than show-off like Callen would. But not bad on the eyes.

With the way Sage was glaring at me I could tell she had already staked claim on this boy and has possibly been trying to move in for years. If she could spit fire right about now, she probably would. Perfect. I was getting bored anyways and antsy for a pair of male hands on me. I didn't just use guys for making enemies. A girl with my age and hormones could only go so long. So with a fresh plan etched in my mind I felt my spirit pick up slightly. I was getting tired of being sullen—it was nice to have a change.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"It was literally the most awesome thing I've ever encountered," Callen went on, jabbing his finger at the motorbike in the glossy picture. Hollis was making noises of agreement but I was too busy gazing across the room to really examine it.

Adder has been fully peeved off with me for the past week. Mostly because I don't take her shit and partly because I've stuck to her side like adhesive. I've endured every insult. Every foul mood. Every cuss. Everything just to make her feel like she lost. Because to her, having me stick around and completely deflect her shit definitely was losing. Then this morning she suddenly went on without me, or a professor, forcing her to. I was completely blown away. I was dying to get into her head and know what she was thinking. Know what she had planned next so I could be one step ahead of her. That was a prankster's best tool—knowing the mind of your target so you could plot exactly what their reaction would be. Otherwise a prank wasn't worth the effort. Like putting pudding in Kelly's shoes. She cherished her shoes—so doing such would get a good reaction out of her.

"Fred—focus," Hollis declared, snapping his fingers in front of my face. I jumped and looked at the two of them before grinning slightly.

"Sorry—zoning out," I shrugged, adding the muggle magician I watched over the holiday to the list. "That's a wicked bike, man."

"We've moved from that topic," Callen grinned, passing me the piece of worn parchment. I scanned the chicken scratch list.

"This is impossible Cal," I declared, frowning slightly.

"That's why I'm commandeering your cousin, Ethan and the rest of the Ravenclaws. If anyone could do it—it'd be them. Don't tell me that wouldn't be a brilliant plan?"

"I just don't think it can be done—even if Dom would actually help _you_. What do you think, Hollis? As Head Boy, would you risk major points and detention with this plan?" I questioned, turning to him and handing him the paper. He frowned slightly as he read it and rolled his eyes.

"With enough effort I think it might work for a few hours. If someone was paying attention and was sober enough to keep track that it kept. But how do you know I won't tattle on you, Parks?"

"Because even _you_ wouldn't wreck the last Welcome Party we will ever have," Callen snorted, grinning at the list. "The question is how to get the word around that this bash is going on without staff getting wind? Word of mouth screwed us over last year around Christmas time, remember?"

"How could anyone that actually got caught forget? McGonagall's fury was like no other. I think she actually ate her own lips at one point—they were in that fine o' a line," Parker laughed, laying her head down in my lap so she could join in on the conversation. "Me Da pretty much tanned my hide when I got home."

"So did my Mum. I was locked in the guest room all holiday so I couldn't even touch anything remotely interesting." I put in.

"Have you thought of posting a charmed bulletin on the boards in Commons?" Dansey Patil suggested, flicking her long braid over her shoulder.

"How do we prevent titchy ones from joining in the festivities?" Callen frowned.

"For the love of Hufflepuff, is this actually happening? It's already starting to get cold—so the idea is barmy to begin with." Hollis crowed, slightly pale. I don't think he banked on everyone being so gun-ho for the idea.

"What part of we can do magic do you not understand HB?" Callen sang, twirling his wand between his fingers. "Now is this a unanimous decision amongst us for a-go?"

There was a chorus of affirmative noises around us, even Hollis begrudgingly agreed. Callen was eyeing me with a fire in his eyes that only a party or the female species could create.

"I'm in. About the spreading of the word, well that will take a small stroke of genius that only I could create." I declared with a small grin. Parker gave my thigh a small 'thump' but didn't speak so I continued on.

"Only post the notice in the fifth year dorms and above. I'll talk to Paxton to handle the Slytherins dormitories, yeah?" I declared, glancing over at the small grouping across the room. By now Adder was sitting rather close to Paxton Joss, while Sage Saller looked positively murderous. I felt my eyebrows rise slightly. When did this develop? She had that look on her face—the charming smile, the flutter of her eyelashes. It usually sent guys in a tizzy only Veelas could produce and Pax was lapping it right up in that monotonous expression of his.

"Ooh—has she set her sights on Slytherins now?" Parker drawled, rising slightly so she could look at the grouping. "She better watch herself. Everyone knows what happens when someone goes after Paxton."

"What? Sage goes mad? When will she get the hint that he's not just that into her?" Ethan Smith from Ravenclaw, piped up. "I feel almost sorry for her, honestly."

"Which one?" Dansey questioned blindly.

"Both of them. Sage because she's so blunt oblivious and Adder because she has no idea what's coming at her," Ethan shrugged as the loud gong signaled the end of class. I slowly packed up over Jangles shouted assignment and the flurry of leaving course mates. Sage was waiting for Paxton at the doorway and Paxton was watching Adder brush past him without a blink of her eye. A confused look coated his features for a moment as she flounced into the hallway and he made to hurry after her before I grabbed his elbow.

"Oh—hey Weasley. I really have to be going," he muttered, his eyes lidded and flicking towards the door.

"Don't bother. She's gone and I'm going to have to hunt her down anyways. I doubt this whole 'I'm actually going to go to class' bit will last long. Anyways—do you know the spell that charms something to read something to one person while saying something else to another?"

"Why do you want to know, Weasley?" Paxton questioned, frowning slightly. "And why would you need to chase her down? You one of her shadows?"

"McGonagall appointed shadow—it gets me less detentions then I actually deserve," I shrugged, brushing off his harsh tone of voice impatiently. "And it's for the Welcome Party that Callen is throwing tomorrow night. We need the information posted in fifth to seventh year dormitories and charmed so teachers won't read it. Think you can cover the Slythie commons?"

"Yeah—sure, I suppose I could do that and get Sage to cover the girls. Do you know her well? The new girl?"

"Brilliant," I grinned, ignoring his second question and scribbling the information down on a spare bit of parchment. "Here's all you need on the poster. Make the decoy about a Chocolate Frog trade or something. That's always just overtly innocent to diverge attention."

"Really—what about the new girl?" he questioned after me. Sage let out a noise that sounded halfway between an owl being strangled and a sob as he leveled out with her.

"The only thing I can tell you is that she's a pain in the ass," I lied, omitting probably more interesting facts.

"Now, now, Weasley—didn't your mother ever tell you it wasn't polite to speak about people behind their backs?" the voice in question quipped. Paxton and I stopped short for a brief second. Adder was leaning casually against the wall, one motorcycle boot propped flat. She smoothed out the pleats in her far too short uniform skirt and pretended to examine a dark smudge on the hem of her too tight button up shirt. "There you are, Paxton. What took you so long?"

"Pax—we're going to be late for Potions," Sage piped up suddenly. Paxton looked over his shoulder at her with his brow furrowed.

"Oh—you're going _that_ way," Adder sighed with her bottom lip jutting out ever so slightly. I blinked, damn she was good. Paxton was hooked. Even _I_ could see beyond his attempts to look nonchalant and cool. Sage was bordering on downright pathetic.

I don't know what clicked with her about him. Paxton was chill, yeah. We were mates and all. But he always seemed to attract girls like Sage, willowy with a small bit of bite but relatively quiet and bookish qualities. Nothing like Adder's louder than life personality. He didn't even go for girls like this. He went for the younger more vulnerable types because he liked being the dominant in the relationship (it was probably the reason Sage didn't even reach his radar) since he didn't get to be that amongst the guys.

Why her? Why now?

"I was hoping you could show me the way to Charms?" Adder's voice questioned, breaking through my thoughts.

"Fred's going to Charms. Isn't he supposed to be your guide?" Sage snapped hotly.

"I just wanted to know an alternative route. I think I've got all the directions Fred takes me committed to memory."

"Yeah—sure. There's a brilliant way we can go if you'd like a scenic route," Pax put in automatically.

"Scenic sounds absolutely perfect, lead on," she purred, walking over and slipping her hands around his arm and with a triumphant smile shot in Sage's direction they were off down the hall. "See you in class Weasley!"

Sage wheeled around at me, her eyes alight with malice. The girl may be slightly on the quiet side but her anger flared when necessary. She was in Slytherin after all and the quality was dominant in most people in that house.

"You need to tell her to back off!" she snapped, smacking my upper arm.

"Oi! No need to attack, woman! Like Ryan would _ever_ listen to something I told her to do. You're on your own with that. Just give her hell, yeah?" I laughed, patting her consolingly on the upper arm and making my way down the hall before she could screech further. Part of me was unsettled about this. Adder's sudden three-sixty turn in attitude. Going to class. Talking to people like a human being. It was unnerving and I didn't know what she was up to exactly. Was she actually into Paxton or was this apart of some new scheme she dreamed up? Right when I thought I had her figured out she does something like this that completely throws me for a loop. The bigger question was—why did I care so much?

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"You're late, yet again, Miss Ryan," Flitwick squeaked from his perch on the stack of books he used to reach the lectern.

"You're lucky I showed to class on my own accord Prof. Honestly—this is leaps and bounds in my case," I shot back automatically. The expected ripple of whispers cascaded the room of my Housemates and Hufflepuff seventh years. Apparently the N.E.W.T class was rather large because most of my lessons had a medley of houses rather than the dividing it in half.

"Have a seat Miss Ryan, now," the man snipped. It was as angry as I was going to get him so I plopped down in the closest seat and immediately propped my feet on the table top. Carrie Palmer, a curvy and rather sarcastic girl in my dorm, glanced at my feet with a small frown before turning back to the two pieces of parchment in front of her. The one closest to me featured an advertisement for trading Chocolate Frog cards while the one she was working on was more extravagant. She leaned back and frowned at it slightly before passing it to Fred on her other side. He looked at it and beamed before passing it behind him to Callen.

"Now—the process of making furniture take on characteristics of movement is a very precise process. It's not just like a _locomotors _charm. It's actually adding appendages to them and making them know when to walk or run rather than just follow you. I'm aware we've sprouted spider legs on tea cups in the past but this is more of creating legs and feet out of the china. You will practice verbally first on the teacup in front of you," Flitwick rambled. There was a flurry of motion as everyone put away books and took out wands, so Callen took the opportunity to grasp Carrie on the shoulders and shake her slightly.

"It's perfect! We can give copies to Hollis and Sarah to put up in Hufflepuff after class!" he declared, placing it down on the desk. I chanced a look over at it. It was an advert as well—but one of a very different variety. So _this_ is what Paxton was talking about.

_School coming on too strong? Time to let your hair down!_

_**When: Saturday, 10:00 to dawn**_

_**Where: The Black Lake—South banks (swimwear optional—knickers encouraged)**_

_**Why: Welcome Back Rager**_

_Come at your own risk. It is each individual's problem to get down to the lakeside but it promises to be far worth it and we will take care of cover from there. See you there. Or be the lame bleeders that didn't show and be mocked for the duration of the year._

_Love fondly—The 7__th__ Year Class of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry_

_Years 5__th__-7__th__ only. Gate crashers will be hexed profusely._

So it seems that Brits aren't as stuffy as I imagined. I thought that night out at the club was a fluke when the first weekend came and went without any whisper of a party. It seemed promising.

"I still think that dung about being mocked and the swimwear is going a bit far, yeah?" Carrie sighed, twirling her quill between her fingers.

"I still think that the line about letting your hair down is stupid," Callen shot back.

"And we're compromising by putting both in," Kelly Dawson, the absolutely tiny girl from my dorm piped up. She was small in size and absolutely delicate in features but large in stature. She had to be, being so close to Fred himself. The two of them were almost as close as Fred was with his cousin. Definitely more so than Callen and Fred. "Now both of you shut it. Flitwick is coming to check on us."

"Let's see your grouping!" he piped up, looking around at our two tables. "Miss Palmer?"

Carrie jumped about a foot in the air as she shoved the two pieces of parchment out of view. With a small frown and a crease between her eyebrows she pointed her wand at the china cup and gently drew the wand down as she stated the incantation. The cup jumped in the air as it sprouted two miniature china legs and feet. Unfortunately one of the legs were slightly shorter than the other so when it began to run it ran completely off course—plowing into the rest of our immobile cups and sending them scattering to the ground.

"Oh dear," Flitwick sighed, flicking his wand at the spastic piece of china (it was now sporadically running in circles) making it still again. "Well that was example of an incomplete wand movement."At this he wandered away leaving the rest of my house mates in suppressed laughter.

"At least he didn't see the poster," Parker snorted, burying her face into her arms. I frowned slightly, awed that they were completely ignoring my existence. Usually they took the time to shoot me a dirty look or two but then again usually I was in the very back corner making wise-assed remarks and picking at their imperfections. I guess when I shut up people forgot I existed. The gong that dismissed classes went off a few minutes later releasing everyone for lunch. Still contemplating the fact that I was ignored by everyone (and not necessarily liking the fact) I wandered out of the classroom.

"Oi! Ryan!"

Fuck—I guess I wasn't completely ignored. I'd be rather partial to being ignored by him honestly, out of everyone here in this hell-hole. He just won't leave me alone. And nothing I say gets to him anymore! It's absolutely, positively, completely frustrating.

"Know your way around enough to be using detours, eh?" Fred questioned, running a hand through his dark hair. "Want to know any for the Great Hall?"

"Piss off Weasley," I grumbled, not particularly in the mood to play the 'banter game' at the moment.

"Look who's picking up some slang! Seems as if you're fitting in finally," he laughed, nudging me with his elbow. I shot him a withering look.

"Sorry—guess you only touch Slytherins now, huh?"

"Weasley—I'm like two milliseconds away from hexing you. So back off if you know what's good for you," I snapped, stopping so I could wheel around to face him.

"Bring it, Ryan. That's been a veiled threat for two weeks. I don't think you actually have it in you. But—I am sorry for touching on such a sensitive subject." He declared, not even forming what should be harsh words as such. They were light and easy. Another reason he pisses me off. No matter what I throw at him—he _never_ yells or even changes his tone. "Does this mean you actually like Paxton or are you going to pull what you did with me?"

"I don't think that's any of your business, honestly."

"Ah—see that's my answer Ryan. Have fun manipulating him. Hope it gets you what you're after," he declared with a small sigh. But the unreadable look that just crossed his face, the small moment of vulnerability I've been waiting for, disappeared with a smile before I could even do anything about it, let alone process what he meant. And that is what left me the most unnerved as he walked away.

**A/A: FINALLY! I have an update for you guys! I'm sorry it didn't come sooner—I literally worked a week straight with no days off—rare and usually doesn't happen. It's just because it's the holiday season and hopefully it doesn't happen any time soon. **

**Anyhow! There's your chapter! I've introduced tons of characters in this one (I know—you're probably all freaking out trying to keep track) but I've left you a present as well. On my profile I have a list of all the seventh years and their houses! And as I introduce other years I'll tack them on as well. But if you have any other questions just let me know what's going through your head. **

**Expect an update soon (this time I'm serious—I'm writing it now) because I don't work until Monday! I'm also going to try to update **_**Snapshots**_** but I'm having trouble capturing Fred in the idea I want to encompass. **

**Love you all!**

**Emily**


	11. Chapter 10

The astounding reaction I received from everyone in this school made my new plan more than double worthwhile. When I showed up at dinner on his arm last night and again sat with him this morning everyone sounded like they were billywigs trapped in a jar. The palatable hum around me fueled me. It was like I needed controversy to live. It was a much longer venture then I usually pursued but I almost felt as if it was worth it. I got the ultimate reaction and I'll be adding two more to my hate list by tomorrow morning. But in the meantime Paxton wasn't_ horrid_ company. He kept relatively quiet—answering my prying questions without hesitation. I've learned loads. Okay—I lied. He was far too open of a book for me to ever be into him in more than a sexual way. I almost can't make it until dawn. But I grin and bear my indiscretions.

How he knows Sage is into him but doesn't want to risk the ultimate friendship by trying anything. How he usually goes for the quieter types in a year lower than him because girls in our year are annoying and shallow. How he writes _poetry_. Ughck. I'm one for the arts but there's something about a guy who writes poetry that's so pedantic and pretentious. It almost made me jump ship right away. But I swallowed my insults and pretended it was the cutest thing in the whole world.

"So then the Profit wrote me about publishing one of my works but I didn't accept it because it would be a bit too mainstream. I just couldn't believe Sage would go as far as doing that behind my back," Paxton sighed, picking at his bagel. Oh for the love of Merlin. The sexual repression between these two was straight up ridiculous. I don't think Paxton even knew how into her he was because her disgusting display of affection was turning him way off.

"Of course—what in the world was she thinking?" I droned, taking a sip of juice. I almost wanted to pour it over his head and stalk off. He doesn't challenge me and I was bored.

"Her heart was into it but she was so stubborn that she didn't see reason. No worries—I sent her picture into Witch Weekly's Worst Dressed List and it made publication. It shut her up for a bit," he laughed. I almost snorted my juice out of my nose. That was schemey! I didn't think the wimp had it in him. "What? Don't seem like I could be so vindictive? I _am_ in Slytherin, love."

"What is with your culture using the word love so often? Doesn't it ruin the magic of the real thing?" I snapped before I could even stop myself. I wanted to kick myself in face after that. I wasn't thinking of_ his_ use of the noun but rather another annoying being.

"It's a term of endearment. Totally different from the verb form of the word," Pax snorted, brushing off my question like it was nothing. Maybe he _does _has a few redeeming qualities that can hold me over until tomorrow. So with a bat of my eyelashes, I gave him a coy smile and angled myself towards him so I could plant my chin in my palm.

"What other qualities are you hiding from me? I want to know what else a Slytherin hides," I purred, batting my eyelashes. Paxton paused for a moment. I was curious to his reaction. I've kept my advantages simple and coy. Not even allowing him a kiss yet. Keeping things relatively innocent. I was curious to what his reaction would be if I amped it up a notch. He doesn't seem to be the type to react to it in a positive way. He seems like he would be put off by it so this was a test on my part. I wonder if I will scare him away.

"I guess that's something for you to find out tonight, eh?" he grinned, his eyes lidded and heavy as he pushed some of my hair off my forehead. I wanted to cringe away from his initial touch because that's what I do—but I had to remember that I was in 'Prowling Adder' mode and not 'Cold-Shoulder Adder'. So I let him push my hair away and rest his hand on my upper thigh. He was reacting a lot differently then I pegged him for. I thought he would be sort of a pussy when it came to stuff like this but I was pleasantly surprised. He was making this task a lot more fun for me than I anticipated.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

I kept finding my eyes flicking across the Hall in the direction of the Slytherin table. Adder had taken residence there this morning and was getting rather cozy with Joss. The shock around the student body when they started hanging around together yesterday was big—and now as they were speaking together with heads bent close everyone was a buzz. Nothing spreads faster through Hogwarts like a new (and completely random) relationship. If that was it even was.

Part of me wanted to go to Paxton and tell him he was being played but that would mean an admittance of my own fault and my ego wasn't ready to do that to anyone but Dominique. So I settled with glaring at them and furiously eating my Owl O's.

"Fred—you're going to break the bowl," a voice sighed from my right, capturing my wrist. I looked over at a smirking Kelly, blinking lightly at me behind her thin glasses. "What's got your knickers in a twist? A prank fail?"

"No—my pranks never fail," I replied, allowing a small smirk. "I'm just frustrated."

"That the new girl is not bugging you anymore?" she snorted. I felt my jaw drop slightly. Kelly rolled her eyes and tapped it closed with two fingers. "I'd rather not see half-chewed breakie, Fred. And no, you're not obvious. I'm just perceptive."

"I don't care. Let Joss have her. Get's her out of my hair," I retorted, busying myself with my pumpkin juice. It wasn't that she wasn't bugging me anymore. That I was in stitches about. I was bugged that she was just going to play another guy after Paxton. It had to end somewhere—right? **"**I'm just annoyed with her in general. She's annoying, okay?"

"Oh so very," Kelly nodded—still smirking slightly.

"What's got his wand in a knot?" Dominique questioned, slipping in on my other side and grabbing a stem of grapes off my plate.

"Who else? The Yank," Kelly replied. Dominique continued chewing as she rolled her eyes and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"You've got to get over that, Freddy. First you complain that she won't leave you alone and now that she's left you alone you freak out some more," she announced in between popping a few more grapes into her mouth. "A stranger might think there's something going on there."

"But we're no strangers. So don't worry, we don't think that remotely," Kelly put in.

"At all," Dominique concluded with a small smirk.

I couldn't even remotely hide my facial revulsion. The only way I would _ever_ be interested in Adder in any ways other than looks would be if hell froze over. I'd rather copulate with the Giant Squid. I'd rather let Devil's Snare at me.

"Don't look so disgusted Fred, we were only yanking your wand," Kelly sighed, placing her hand on my upper arm as the rush of wings filled the hall. "Look, what a fantastic diversion from this awkward topic. Post is here."

The owls dropped around us as they located their owner. Dominique's tawny scop owl careened into my cereal bowl—covering us in milk and soggy bits of grain.

"Chouette! You poor thing," she cooed, scooping him from the bowl as my own barn owl landed gracefully on my shoulder.

"Hey Zonko—what have you got there?" I questioned, releasing the small package from his leg and pushing the forgotten bowl towards him. He swooped down and began to dip his beak in the milk. "Oi! Roxy! Zonko brought me your package!" I declared, reaching for the binding as I shouted down the table.

"No! Fredrick! Open your own post!" she shrieked, falling off of the bench in her haste to get to me. I paused for a moment, contemplating laughing at her, but my curiosity got the better of me. She obviously didn't want me to open her package.

"What'd you send for? It isn't from home," I grinned, as she managed to crawl over and launch herself over Dom's shoulders to get at me. I quickly evaded her, jumping off the bench and holding the package out of her reach.

"It's mine and it's none of your bloody business," she snapped, jumping up and grabbing at the raised arm.

"But I'm you're big brother. Of course it's my business," I laughed. Roxy doesn't hide things often. Most things that would make a girl squirm admitting they bought, Roxy wouldn't blink an eye. I've gone through many of times like this where it ended up being feminine products. She isn't afraid to tell me such. So this had to be good.

"Bugger off, Fredrick and give it here!" she snapped, launching herself at my torso, her magical abilities obviously forgotten. She could've just summoned it after all.

"Don't think I will," I laughed, pushing down on her head so she fell back on her bum.

"I'll shout for a professor if you open that," she threatened, starting to get back up, which I cut off with lightly pushing her down with a foot. I looked quickly at the Head Table. Since it was Saturday—most of the teachers hadn't ventured down for breakfast. Only Professor Jangle and Professor Marxx of Ancient Ruins were lazily munching their food, paying no heed to us students.

"You wouldn't dare—you're not like that," I ventured with a small smile. So to prevent further stepping on my little sister, I plopped down across her stomach. It was less painful on her part and very effective on mine.

"Gerroff me Fred and give me back that package!" she declared, hitting my sides with her fists. The fact that no one was coming to her aide or even reacting to what was going on was amusing enough. It made me think how often occurrences like this happened between us to be considered fairly normal. So with painstaking slowness I pulled at the twine binding the package until it came unraveled.

"Honestly Fred! If you open that I'll hex you until next year!"

"Like to see you try, midget," I snorted, going for the wrapping.

"Leave her be, Fred," Dominique sighed, finally intervening.

"Nope—I've got it open. There's no turning back," I laughed, looking back in the package and removing the bits of fabric only to immediately drop it back in my lap. It was small—shouldn't even begin to be considered clothing. Pink and white striped with wire and padding.

"Did you order fancy knickers?" I gasped, looking down with alarm and disgust at Roxy's disgruntled face.

"Don't be daft. It's a bikini!" she snapped, pushing at my side with both hands. "Gerroff me!"

"A bikini? What would you need a biki—OH HELL NO! THERE IS NO WAY IN THE ENTIRE MAGICAL UNIVERSE THAT YOU'RE GOING!" I bellowed jumping off of her and glaring the best I could while on all fours. Roxy sat up and locked her jaw.

"I'd like to see you try to stop me, Fredrick. I'm in fifth year. The notice says fifth through seventh, yeah?" she stated, standing up and brushing herself down. She snatched the offending piece of clothing off the floor and started back towards her friends.

"ROXANNE ALICIA WEASLEY! Get back here! No way in hell are you going toni—"

In which Fred Weasley is smacked very hard across the back of the head.

"Oi! What the bloody hell was that for? Can't you see I'm in a rage?" I snapped, whirling around to catch the offender. Callen was standing very broad and very tall and very angry.

"Will you watch your mouth? Do you want to blow it?" he hissed, grabbing my arm and toting my out of the Hall. "What's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that _that_'_s _my little sister who thinks she's going to a party tonight. And I'm not going to let it happen! There will be booze there!"

"Dude—you were at these parties when you were her age. Don't be a douche bag and let the kid have some fun," he declared, grinning genially.

"He's right, Fred. I'll watch out for her if you're that concerned. I have no reason to _not_ be sober. Someone responsible has to be," Dominique sighed from behind me. I jumped slightly and whirled on her.

"It's Roxy!" I whined—putting both hands on my cousin's shoulders.

"Exactly. It's not like its Molly—she, of all people, can handle herself," Dominique laughed, patting my cheek with her hand.

"She's right, I _can_ handle myself," Roxy snapped, slipping out of the Hall.

"You don't know what you're getting into!" I groaned, wanting to smack her upside the head.

"_You're_ my brother. I think I'm prepared as I'll ever be," she snorted. "You're not stopping me so you might as well accept it."

"That's the attitude! See you there, love!" Callen declared, grinning slowly at her as she walked towards the Grand Staircase. I watched the way his eyes lingers and the small smirk on his lips and ice slid into my stomach. Dominique groaned slightly as I turned slowly towards my 'best mate'.

"You stay the hell away from my sister," I warned before gathering what dignity I had left and following the path Roxy departed in.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"He was livid—who knew 'Mr. Everything rolls of me like water' would be the protective older sibling type?"

"It was kinda hot."

"That's…euhck!—just do _not_ say that ever again."

"C'mon Parker! Admit it! Seeing him all worked up and angry made something stir inside of you, yeah? It was like—feral. Maybe I'll see if he's interested tonight?"

"Oh for the love of Godric—how many times have you tried this and how many times has it blown up in your face? He always falls back on Kelly or someone a year lower and you get upset and we spend the rest of the evening consoling you in the loos while Kelly frets about your ruined friendship."

"I thought I told you all not to bring that up again! It's a drunk only th—"

"Will you all just shut the hell up about Fred Weasley!?" I snapped, ripping back my bed curtains and glaring at the party piled on Carrie's bed. It was all my dorm mates, Dansey Patil and Clarissa Jones from Ravenclaw, and a few girls from Hufflepuff whose names I don't remember. I honestly don't understand why our Houses have passwords if all the girls all hang out together. They know our password so what's the point of keeping it all a huge secret? I could tell none of them took my comment with a good eye because almost every one of them was wearing expressions of slight shock and definite annoyance.

"What do you care?" Carrie questioned bluntly.

"Because I'm trying to nap and all I hear are you guys yammering pathetically about Weasley," I replied coolly. "If you didn't realize, this is my dorm as well."

"This is a ritual we've had since third year. Saturday afternoon Gossip Sessions," Kelly shrugged as one of the Hufflepuff girls nodded fervently.

"It's how we know not to take each other's guys. Not that you'd know about that prospect, of course," she sniffed. I wanted to laugh. In fact I did, laugh, that is. I just don't know why girls thought that their words could wound me. I'm queen of 'wounding words' myself and they don't break through my barrier.

"Oh that's a good jab there. I wish I knew your name so I could send you a 'Thank You' card. So then you could just pull it out to remind you of that perfect zinger you actually got in there. I thought you Badger things were supposed to be welcoming of everyone? I've only been here two weeks and I know that," I shot back, smiling slightly when her face turned slightly red.

"My name's Bridget," she mumbled under her breath.

"Well _Bridget_ next time you make an accusation—check your facts. I don't purposefully chase after the taken ones, they often come to me. It's not my fault girls can't hold on to their guys and if he's cheating on you that obviously says something. When a guy's with me cheating doesn't even cross his mind," I laughed, flicking my hair over my shoulder and leaning closer to their bed like I was sharing a big secret.

"That's a disgusting philosophy. And not all guys think your tacky way of seduction is thrilling. Corey hasn't even looked your way once," Parker declared hotly.

"That's because Corey's head is too far up your ass to notice anyone else," I snorted. There was a small giggle from one or two of the girls but it stopped as soon as Parker glared their way. "Like I said, the boy will always be a cheater unless the girl keeps their interest. What I just said was very much a compliment. Or as much as a compliment you'll ever get from me."

"You're a horrid human being," Parker sniffed, grabbing her issue of _Witch Weekly_ and burying her face in it.

"Darling, tell me something I don't already know, why don't you?" I sighed, grabbing my covers and yanking them back around my bed. Settling down into my pillow I strained my ears to the conversation that five inches of velvet was blocking me from. I was positive they would start whispering incessantly about me and what a frigid, slutty, bitch I was. It wasn't the first time I've heard such. The soft caresses of voices only confirmed my suspicions.

"How do you live with her? Aren't you afraid she's going to kill you in your sleep or something?"

"Every single night," Parker hissed back.

"Oh please, stop being so dramatic Parker. She honestly keeps to herself. We only have to endure outbursts like that every so often. I feel kinda sorry for her, honestly," Carrie sighed.

Sorry for me?! Who does she think she is feeling sorry for me? I didn't ask her to care. I don't need her sympathy. I'd honestly rather Parker's impression of me then Carrie's. It was easier to be hated then felt sorry for. With an angry jab of my wand their voices fell away and I was finally able to drift into a fretful and dream filled sleep.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"If you used your powers for good rather than evil imagine what you could accomplish, Callen," I sighed, looking around the area he had set up around the lake. Tables were set up off under the trees and lanterns floating in the dark water as well as the air. The best part was the mega disillusionment charm that took several Ravenclaws to perfect. It spanned in a perfect bubble around the party area with several other charms used to muffle all sound and such. It was, surprisingly, Dominique's doing. She learned it from Aunt Hermione who used it when she was in hiding in the height of the war. I've stepped on the outside of the barrier and it's perfect. I didn't think it was possible to get it this big.

"But it's so much more fun being evil, mate," Callen replied, grinning cockily at his setup. I checked my watch with a frown before looking around at the people hanging about from the set up. James and Kent were in a corner talking to Kaylie in low voices. Leaving Cal to bask in his own ego I strutted over and plopped down in the grass with Kaylie.

"What's up buttercup? You look psyched."

She looked over, her brow furrowed and lower lip caught deftly between her teeth, before giving her head a quick shake and busying herself with yanking chunks of grass from the ground.

"She's fretting over getting caught," James sighed, tugging lightly on a tendril of her hair. "Pet, I promise you I'll make sure you're not implemented."

"It's not like the other parties we've gone to. This is out of the _castle_. James, I'm a _prefect_!"

"Kaylie-Kat," Kent sighed, sitting next to his twin and resting his head on her shoulder. "Don't ruin our fun. We have the map and at first glance you can get the cloak all to yourself."

"And I'll take the heat for you," I added, giving her a small smile. She looked at the three of us and threw up her hands, smacking Kent in the process.

"Fine! Fine! I'll relax! Merlin, I'm insane but I'll relax," she exclaimed before giggling nervously.

"These are the memories you'll look back on," I concluded, throwing my arm in a grand gesture. "Now—can I see that map?"

"Should I trust you with it?" James sighed.

"I'll give it to Dominique as soon as she gets here," I replied, rolling my eyes. James gave me a small smirk but handed over the worn piece of parchment regardless. I scanned it and smiled slightly at the groups of two or three flitting out of the castle and to the farthest side of the lake. It actually looked like most people were taking the great risk and coming to this bash. I guess any party promised by Callen Parks is worth it. Pocketing the map I made my way over to the refreshment table, laden with everything you could ask for (muggle, wizard, alcoholic and non-alcoholic alike), and picked my way through the different bottles.

"Starting already? I thought we learned to pace our self mate?"

I nearly dropped the handle of amber liquid that Callen somehow smuggled on campus. There, looking sufficiently cocky, was my _real_ best mate. Screw whatever Callen's title was.

"Ryan bloody Wood, what the hell are you doing here?" I exclaimed, practically jumping on him and repeatedly punching his arm.

"Oi! I need those for my _job_!" Ryan exclaimed, pulling me into a headlock.

"Well wasn't this a…_poufy_ greeting?" Dominique snorted, placing her hand on each of our shoulders.

"I appreciate you editing yourself," I managed to choke out. Dominique smacked Ryan hard on the shoulder and he begrudgingly released me.

"Do you honestly think I'd miss the last Welcome Rager of what was supposed to be my seventh year?" he questioned with a small smirk.

"Dominique write you?" I laughed, throwing an arm around her shoulders. "Aren't you the best cousin ever?"

"How've you been? I've heard…erm…things," Ryan shrugged.

"Tell me about Quidditch first. I haven't seen you since the start of summer holidays and I'll need a few drinks before we get into my shit." I groaned, scuffing up my hair.

"That bad?" Ryan grimaced.

"That—"

"That different," Dominique finished for me.

"Different is a good word for it," I agreed, eyeing the crowds of people that suddenly showed up in the party space. Within the last half hour it went from dead to booming and I could hardly believe it. Out of the corner of my eye I saw a flash of red hair. My eye immediately followed it and I felt my mouth pull down at the corners slightly. She looked over her shoulder and instantly our gazes met. She smirked in my direction before biting slightly on her lower lip and giving me a wink. She winked at me! Fucking winked at me. Who the hell does she think she is? Ryan immediately followed my gaze and a chuckle ripped through his chest.

"Did someone finally tame you?" he questioned light heartedly.

"Ryan," I growled, turning back to the drink table and cracking open the bottle of amber liquid. Taking a quick pull from the bottle, I slammed it back down on the table before turning back to them.

"I didn't realize my name elicited such a reaction," Ryan remarked, raising his eyebrows slightly.

"Not _you_ Ryan, _her _Ryan. Adder Ryan—the biggest bloody pain in my arse since Roxanne herself," I groaned.

"To avoid what will probably be another long winded complaint about her, I'm going to take this map and go someplace far away," Dominique deadpanned, grabbing the map from my back pocket and sauntering away. Ryan looked at me with raised eyebrows before grabbing a shot glass, pouring a liberal dose, and holding it in my direction.

"I think it might be best if you go first, mate."

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"So—even _I_ have to admit. This is quite impressive," I grinned, swirling my drink around in my glass before taking a small swig. Paxton threw his arm around my shoulder and pulled me into his side. I had to stop myself from frowning. He was a tad too scrawny for my liking. I didn't fit right. There were too many angles and bones and not enough ease.

"It is a quite good bit of magic. Covering this much space," he nodded, taking my drink from my hand and sipping it. I had to fully prevent myself from smacking him. Nobody takes my drink unless specifically invited. I needed to get this job over with and done before I actually resort to magic. I was going to have to drag this to a more drastic level. Just to get things over with. I just needed to locate—ah there she was. Stalking away.

"It's a bit warm out tonight. Why don't we take a dip?"

"It doesn't look like you brought a swimsuit," Paxton replied dumbly. Merlin, boys were so _slow_.

"It's okay—my underclothes are quite okay with getting wet," I grinned, taking his hand and lacing my fingers through his. He grinned down at our intertwined hands and looped his arm over my shoulder. I could feel eyes following me as we walked towards the edge of the lake. There was a pounding mix of music but somehow once you got to the edge of the water—the sound of the party fell away leaving only those shrieking and laughing in the dark mass.

I passed Sage on the way. She was clutching her drink with a claw and daggers in her eyes. She yanked the hand of the nearest boy to her. He looked like our year and by the sullen look to his face, one that I've come to find often belongs to those in their house. He looked surprised but rather happy by the new development and followed willingly. She, on the other hand, looked positively livid. I looked over my shoulder and raised my free hand to give her a genial wiggle of fingers. She didn't take to that well—scowling further and practically yanking her dudes arm out of his socket.

"You guys going in?" she shouted, her voice rising above the noise. I paused for a moment to look at her 'thoughtfully' before looking coyly back at Pax. He looked torn between inviting her along and knowing if he did it would ruin any chance of him getting anything. So I did what I did best and what I was going for this whole time.

"Yeah—but I don't think we'll need much company. What do you think, Paxton?" I sighed, looking over my shoulder at him as I walked a few inches away and tugged off my loose black tank top. I felt the male eyes in the general area glance over at me. The small niggling feeling in the pit of my stomach was back but I brushed it away and stretched my arms over my head, popping my shoulders comfortably and aiding the black satin push-up bra further.

"I think I'll catch up with you later, Sage? Does that work for you?" Paxton questioned, not even glancing in her way as I kicked off my boots. His eyes were only on me. Perfect.

"C'mon Sage, I'll—erm…get you another drink," Sage's date stuttered. I fluttered my eyelashes at him and waggled my fingers in their direction. Sage's face was a mixture. She looked mostly furious but there was a small spark in her eyes that led me to believe tears were close by. And with an almighty 'humph' she whirled on her heel and hurried away. Basking in a flawless step of my plan (minus the other guy—I have no idea why _anyone _would go out with her knowing how strung up she was on Paxton. It honestly threw me for a loop) I gave Paxton one more flirtatious look over my shoulder before diving in the murky depths.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Sounds like you needed that reality check. What girl has _ever_ turned you down, Fred?" Ryan sighed, pouring us each another shot. I lofted it in his direction before tipping it back down my throat. It burned a bit as it went down, but warmed my toes and fingers.

"I know—that's mostly it. The ego thing, yeah? But now, it's just like she lives to bug me! She says things that dig deep," I groaned, banging my head on the table.

"If I didn't know you, I'd think that you might have a thing for her," Ryan replied. I looked up at him so fast I felt my neck crick.

"Why would I ever like a girl that is so rude and abrasive?" I questioned flatly.

"Because—I don't know. It's just that when people complain about someone, they usually can't get them out of their head." Ryan shrugged. "But if you say you can't stand her I'm not going to be the one to fight it."

"I just need to stop talking about it. The more I rehash it the more Dominique and Kelly and _you_ say stupid shit like that," I grumbled, pushing back on the chair and standing up. The party was in full swing and I noticed our friends clustered at the edge of the dance floor. Giving Ryan a raised eyebrow, I grabbed my drink and headed that way. Kelly was laughing at something Darren was saying, holding on to her stomach and doubling over.

"Ryan!" Carrie shrieked, breaking away from the group and flinging herself on him. "Is Fred done commandeering you for the night? Have you two fully caught up in a truly bird-like fashion?"

"That hurts Carrie. We aren't bird-like, we just miss each other," Ryan joked, circling her waist and spinning slightly.

"And that's much better?" Kelly questioned, finally over her giggle fit. I slipped an arm around her waist and stooped down to rest my cheek on her head.

"You're much too short for me to do this, Pixie," I grumbled. She looked up at me—her brown eyes wide.

"Nice change of subject, Freddy," she giggled, patting my cheek before grabbing my drink and taking a swig. "Euck—this is strong! Who poured it? I think they're trying to do you in."

"That would be my best mate. He can't stand being away from me so he decides to off me," I laughed, straightening up and taking the drink from her hand. I quickly downed it before hefting Kelly up and over my shoulder. She immediately shrieked and began smacking my back. "We're going swimming Pixie!"

"Fred! I don't want to go swimming!" Kelly laughed, as I attempted to heel off my trainers without dropping her.

"Since when do I do what you want?" I questioned, using my free hand to attempt to yank apart my belt.

"Godric, at least put me down before you strip. I don't want to fall while you're all naked," she snorted, smacking me once again. I laughed but lowered her to the floor.

"I bet that's exactly what you want, Pix," I grinned, leaning in to look at her.

"Fred, you're drunk," she stated blatantly—gently removing her glasses from her face and placing them in my shoe.

"You said this only happens when we're drunk," I pointed out. Kelly eyed me for a moment before sighing.

"But I'm not drunk. Plus—I don't know if I want to be that for you," she shrugged.

I frowned—attempting to wrap her words around my slightly foggy brain.

"But, you're the only person I trust besides Ryan that's not my family. You'll never be just _that_ for me," I declared, kicking my jeans off from around my ankles and putting my hands on her cheeks. She pet my hand fondly for a moment before casting her eyes downward.

"I don't know, Fred. Shall we take this seriously?" she questioned finally looking up at me.

"When do I ever take anything seriously? But you're _you_ and I'm _me_ and what's it going to hurt if we give it a try?" I questioned with a small smile. She rolled her eyes slightly but gave a small lift of her shoulders. Taking that as an affirmative, I yanked off my shirt and grabbed her around the waist—dragging her in front of me into the water.

"Fred!" she shrieked, splashing me with a wave of water. "I didn't even take off my cover-up!"

"That is unfortunate," I giggled, wading closer and pressing a firm kiss on her lips. "You should've acted faster."

Kelly grinned against my lips and wrapped her legs around my waist so she wouldn't have to tread water. With a small laugh she responded to the kiss, running her fingers through my hair and tilting her head just so. I clutched her just so, cupping the back of her head and pressing her closer to me. It went on as such. The playing of lips and other things of that nature. The water had slowly sucked the moisture from our skin leaving it wrinkly when the first big thing happened. The noise of the spell was so great that I was fairly certain it would break through the barrier and alert the castle beyond.

Kelly and I broke apart with a jerk, her slipping momentarily under the water before coming up spluttering. We looked wildly around for the cause of the noise—knowing it could never be good. There was one party my fifth year where two blokes went at it over a bird and one somehow ended up with an extra arm on their chest while the other was missing their right one. Jury is still out whether the arm belonged to the other—but it was bad. Ever since then we try to keep the dueling to a minimum.

"Sage! Let her up! Have you gone barking mad!?"

I whirled to my right and zero'd in on the shallows about ten feet away. Paxton was furiously trying to rip someone from the sucking of a mud pit while shouting at Sage, who had her wand pointed straight at the person she was trying to suffocate. At Paxton's scolding she lifted her wand allowing her victim up for breath. Adder came up spluttering and spitting, pushing her mud smeared hair out of her face. Her whole torso was covered thick with mud and even I could see her eyes glinting in absolute malice.

"I was waiting for that! I hope you realize it!" she snapped, standing up and slopping over so she was inches away from Sage. Even though she was a head shorter than her, Adder looked up in her eyes with pure confidence. "I've been waiting for one of you to strike first and now you'll wish you never did. I actually have an excuse to fight back."

"You deserved it! Walking around like you own the place! Rubbing him in my face!" Sage spat. Adder cocked an eyebrow and turned around and hooked her thumbs under the waistband of her jean shorts. With one quick motion she yanked them down, baring her knickers to Sage. The fluorescent pink script almost glowed in the dark. 'Your boyfriend says hello'.

"This hit too close to home?" she questioned her voice calm and level, straightening back up and crossing her arms over her chest. "But it's not accurate is it? He's not your boyfriend. He doesn't want to be."

This honestly was the most bizarre thing I've ever encountered and it made me instantly sober. I've never seen anyone actually _fight_ over Paxton Joss for one. I didn't know what Adder thought she was gaining from this, for second. And third, I didn't know how she knew that rubbing this in Sage's face would get the reaction she did. Sage was normally a docile person—sure she had spunk but she never resorted to total violence. It seemed as childish of a move it was, Adder's display of her knickers cracked the last fissure in Sage's resolve. Both wands and the first set of spells were whipped out at such speeds if you'd blink you'd miss it.

I've never seen Adder actually use spell work. She's threatened it enough, of course. A lot of times it was actually at me, but she never actually went through with it. But she wasn't joking when she placed the threat. She was quite a master, deflecting spells and counteracting them almost automatically with her own. I shot Kelly a small look before taking off in broad strokes in their direction. Paxton was staring dumbly at the girls, his hands twitching towards his pants where I'm sure his wand was.

"Are you mad?" I snapped, finally reaching shallow enough water to fully stand. I whipped my wand out and cast a shield charm between the girls. Their last spells hit the barrier and shot off in wicked directions. "Why didn't you stop them?"

Adder was impressively rather unscathed. The only sign of damage was the gnarly looking cut on her forearm while Sage was sporting several colored boils and her ears kept twitching uncomfortably. I turned to look at Adder. While Sage was firing spells to actually maim her opponent, Adder was obviously dueling for a point. It took a combination of spells to get what Sage looked like now—skilled but relatively harmless. I was shocked. I was almost certain those blows were equally shot with the intention to hurt the other.

"Because he's too caught up in his own mind," Adder laughed, looking over in his direction. "He didn't have the guts to get in the middle of it, really."

"Take down the shield, Weasley. She's still standing." Sage declared, banging on the wall.

"Shut it Sage. You're drunk and acting like a loon," I sighed, looking impatiently in her direction.

"You didn't need to do that for me, Adder. I could've handled Sage on my own," Paxton put in lamely. Adder turned towards him while wringing out her cherry hair.

"I didn't do it for you," she smirked. "I did it because she was annoying. You, I did, because I was bored. Now that this night has reached its climactic point—I'm going to bed."

Paxton's jaw dropped and I'm almost positive I could hear a collective gasp from the crowd that had gathered.

"Do you not have a soul?" Sage questioned, clamping her hands over her ears. "Why don't you just go back where you came from? Don't you get that not _one_ person here likes you?"

Adder stopped mid-way from going to pick up her things. She turned back to Sage, an almost weary look on her face.

"Don't _you_ get that not only do I _not_ want to be here but I don't _care_ what anybody thinks. Don't _you_ get that I'm doing everything I can to be hated. It's a hell of a lot easier in the end."

And with that she turned on her heel and stalked off—leaving a wake of shocked silence behind her.

* * *

**A/A: Not only do you get two chapters in two days but you get an effing long one. An action packed effing long one. You're welcome. Repay me by telling me what you think?**

**Forever Yours Magically,**

**Emily**


	12. Chapter 11

"Fred," a voice groaned, drifting into my subconscious and whirling through my brain. I grunted, only to be shaken this time. It was freezing this morning, noting that it was far too early for me to be up.

"Freddy…you need to get up," they persisted.

"G'way," I grumbled, burying myself under the covers and squeezing my eyes tighter.

"You really need to see something."

Slowly I peeled my eyes open, blinking rapidly against the sunlight streaming across my face and eliciting what was probably some sort of hiss. The room was relatively empty, as it always is after a party. People end up crashing in each others' Houses or the commons. The truly responsible people are the ones that make it back to their proper beds. Guess I was one of those last night. I barely registered Ryan and Carrie cuddled up in the bed next to me before eyeing Kelly sitting cross legged at the foot of my bed.

"It's early Kel," I groaned, attempting to shut my eyes again. "Let's just sleep for a bit longer, eh?"

"Fred!" Kelly persisted as she flopped down so she was lying next to me and began patting me on the cheek. "I just went to go change into actual pajamas and you'll never guess who Callen picked up last night."

"I could care less whom Cal's pick of the week is, Pixie. I'm tired," I whined, going to tug the blankets over my face.

"No, you care. Trust me, you care," she breathed, pulling the covers down and peering at me. I furrowed my brow, brushing the sleep cobwebs away and attempting to go through a mental list of who I saw Callen with last night.

After Adder's departure the party was shocked silent for about two minutes before everything picked back up again. Sage ended up losing her stomach contents and Paxton carted her away to heal her. And Kelly and I spent the night together, not necessarily speaking.

As I wracked my brain for sufficient information, there was a small part of my mind that contemplated just what I got into with Kelly. She was one of my closest mates. One I could depend on for anything. I could count the amount of people that happens with on one hand. Lou, James, Dominique, Ryan and Kelly. And my Dad, but that doesn't count. I was afraid to really try with her because I didn't know if I could give to her what she wanted from me. It's become obvious to me that our drunken hook-ups had to mean _something_. What exactly that something was, I didn't know. I don't like not knowing what I was getting into.

"You're not even thinking about Callen are you?" Kelly questioned quietly. "You're thinking about this."

"How do you always know what I'm thinking Pix?" I sighed, brushing the back of my hand over her cheek.

"Fredrick Weasley, what girl do you always go to for female-type advice?"

"Dominique," I laughed. Kelly rolled her eyes and settled further so she could rest her head in the crook of my neck.

"When you didn't want 'blunt bollocks busting' advice," she replied, lowering her voice an octave when she repeated my own words.

"You," I relented with a small smile.

"That's how I know. That and you were looking at me like you would a new prank write-up. With a confused Neanderthal expression," she giggled.

"I do not have Neanderthal-ish expressions!"

"Fred—we're diverging from the point and since I'm actually attempting to get you out of this bed that's not very good. Now go ahead. Give me all your fears about what happened between us last night," Kelly remarked, rolling over and looking straight at the ceiling.

"I'm afraid of hurting you, Kel. We both know I don't last long on the relationship front. I don't want you to hate me," I admitted in one big breath. Kelly giggled slightly before turning her head to look at me in the eyes.

"I couldn't hate you Fred. Ever. If this doesn't work out I know it won't be out of you not liking me but because we weren't meant to be. I'm sensible—I don't hate my ex-beaus. Never have, never will," she concluded, reaching down and grabbing my hand under the covers. "Just don't ever hate me, yeah?"

"I could never hate you. I don't have a lot of people on that list and I guarantee you will never come close to getting on it," I declared, leaning over and planting a soft kiss on her temple.

"Good—because 'us' had to happen one of these days, especially with the rate you go through girls. I'm just glad it's happening when we're both mature enough to handle the repercussions," she announced through a small snort of laughter.

"Why the bloody hell are you not in Ravenclaw?" I questioned, wrapping my arms around her waist and pulling her to me.

"Because I'm not afraid of anything," she answered with a small shrug. "Now don't get too comfortable. You _really_ need to go downstairs."

"What's down there that can't wait until later?" I questioned, already feeling myself go back to sleep.

"I told you what was. If you weren't so daft you'd probably have figured it out by now. Now, up!" She commanded, slipping out of bed and pulling on my arm. With an almighty groan, I allowed her to heft me to my feet and towards the common room door.

"I really don't want to put together another girl that Callen's destroyed," I complained, starting for the stairs and starting slightly at the chill that rose from the stone.

"He hasn't destroyed anything yet. But Fred—just don't flip your broomstick too hard. He's Callen and well she's—she's old enough to know what she's doing," Kelly sighed, stopping me just before the mouth to the Common Room. I paused and really looked at Kelly's face. It was set with determination and worry, her short hair mused up from where she kept tugging on the short ends with her fingers. And it dawned on me.

"I'll kill him," I growled, pushing past Kelly and stalking towards the circle of couches and arm chairs.

"Fred!" Kelly hissed, following close behind. "That's not necessary. He probably did it because you put it into his head yesterday. Dominique told me you threatened him and you _know_ that gets him all riled up."

"She's fifteen! We both know _exactly_ what he's after," I growled, whirling on her. Kelly didn't even shrink away from my fury and she hasn't ever really seen it before. I don't get angry often—I usually take everything in strides. But when I do get upset—all hell breaks loose. Kelly didn't flinch or anything. She just looked a bit weary.

"Fred—you have to let her grow up sometimes. I'm not saying that _that_ needs to happen but she's going to do what she wants. No matter what you tell her. She's just as stubborn as you are, maybe even more. She knows how to say no," Kelly sighed, standing protectively in front of one of the couches.

"Why'd you even tell me if you were going to try and stop me?" I snapped.

"Because you had a right to know for yourself and not through the rumor mill," Kelly replied, leveling herself and staring up at me with a fierce look in her eyes. "I didn't think you would get _this_ upset."

"Move aside, Pixie. I'll let her grow up with anyone beside Callen. She can do better," I growled. We stood like this for a moment—in a complete standoff before Kelly's shoulders slumped slightly and she stalked off towards the girl's staircase without another word. Looking over the back of the couch only made me more upset. Callen was cradling my little sister and almost smothering her with his size. He was shirtless and Roxy was only in jean shorts and her bathing suit top. I reached in my pocket only to curse myself—she nicked my wand! Stalking over to the other side I snatched Callen's from off the ground and pointed it at his face. It felt foreign—like the normal extension of my hand was replaced with something fake. But I muttered the spell and the clear jet of water spouted from the end, splashing him in the face. Callen awoke with a loud grunt, rolling spastically onto the floor at my feet.

"Am I late for class?!" He spluttered, sitting up and wiping the water from his eyes. He slowly took in surroundings, his eyes lingering on the sofa before looking up at me. A lazy smile spread across his face.

"Quite a party last night, eh?" he questioned, raising his eyebrows slightly and eyeing Roxy again. I kicked him in the thigh. "Oi! What the hell was that for?!"

"Roxanne! WAKE UP!" I snapped, unable to control my temper or volume. Roxy woke up with a jolt and a small scream, looking around her wildly and clutching her wand. Finally her eyes settled on me and she flopped back onto the couch.

"I'll just go up in a bit, Fred. Let us sleep in a bit longer, yeah?" she yawned.

"DO YOU TWO HONESTLY EXPECT ME _NOT_ TO SAY ANYTHING?! DO YOU REALLY THINK THIS IS OKAY!?" I exploded, sick of the nonchalance of it all.

"Fred—I will sleep with who I please," Roxy groaned. I felt my stomach drop out of my arse at that. "Oh will you put your eyes back in your head? I don't mean like that—I mean how you saw."

"I don't want you doing anything with him, let alone sleeping!" I shot back.

"Is that my wand?" Callen questioned suddenly. I shot him a quelling glare before turning back to Roxy. She was standing now, glaring up at me with her hands on her hips.

"I repeat, I will do _what_ I please with _who_ I please," she snapped.

"Do you know what he does to girls? You've heard the stories Roxy, don't be daft! Do you want to be another bloody notch on his bedpost?" I groaned, clutching my hair in frustration.

"Oi! Who says she's a notch?" Callen grumbled, standing up and looking rather imposing. "Maybe I like her, mate! Maybe it's finally a Weasley that tames the beast!"

Roxy and I both looked at him. Me with a dumbfounded expression, Roxy with shining eyes.

"You've got to be kidding me," I finally managed to get out.

"What—is that so impossible?" Roxy shot back. "That I'm worth it to a guy?"

"It's a load of bollocks!"

"So no guy could ever find me worth a relationship? Is that what you're saying, Fred?"

"I didn't say that! _He_ doesn't find you worth a relationship."

There were a few groans behind me causing me to turn around in bewilderment. Crowded at the foot of both of the stairs was most of the house. They were eyeing the three of us like we were the Quidditch World Cup and front and center of the girl's staircase was the last person I wanted to see, especially after last night. Adder had her arms crossed as she leaned casually against the archway. She had cleaned up after her unintentional mud bath last night, her bright hair pulled up on top of her head—a worn leather book tucked under her arm and a few pencils tucked into her hair tie. Her eyes were alight with amusement and a small smirk was playing along her lips. She looked positively entertained.

"If you do this—I'll write Mum and Dad," I concluded finally.

"I'll do you one better, Fredrick," Roxy snapped, "I'll write them myself. Tell them I've met a really great guy. Tell them you're being an overprotective bastard and they needn't worry. Stay out of it Fred. I'm a big girl, I don't need your protection nor do I want it. Now if you excuse me, I'm going to sleep in a real bed for a few hours."

She snatched her jumper from the folds of the cushions, stuffed her wand into her short pockets, and stalked over to Callen. Putting her hands on his shoulders she pulled him down into a very evident and elaborate kiss before giving me a triumphant look and storming off. For the first time in my life I was shocked to complete silence.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

Note that I truly enjoy a good screaming match when it doesn't directly involve me, but to be completely and painstakingly honest this particular one I didn't enjoy all that much. Coming downstairs to see a bed-ragged, pajama pant clad Weasley have it out with his mate and younger sister wasn't something that I envisioned myself encountering. It was the single most pathetic fight I have ever come across. I've dealt with many protective older siblings in my time. Once upon a time (a long time ago) it was myself and slowly they started coming after me. Boys whose younger sisters I wasn't exactly nice to, boys who older sisters had problems with me. They've threatened and yelled and treated me in a way I most certainly didn't deserve. But this was painful because never have I seen the younger sibling fight back.

They usually feel pretty special that someone was out there looking after them; but this chick, she wasn't taking shit. She just threw it all back at Weasley and then shoved it in his face. As much as it was nice to see him get put in his place somewhat—it didn't feel necessarily heartwarming at all. I think everyone was a bit upset with what was going down. They were certainly taking sides. There were some younger girls behind me taking bets on who would get hit first; Callen by Fred or Fred by mini-Weasley.

There was a single moment when our eyes met (after he made a particularly bad error by mouth) where he just seemed kinda defeated. A human feeling bloomed in me then, a slight feeling of empathy. I felt bad for him. Bad enough to lie off of making his life a bit of hell? Probably not. I was still trying to get out of here after all.

As the crowd dispersed and Fred's wide-shoulder friend (when did he get here?) toted him away, I pushed through the Portrait Hole and wandered aimlessly down the hall. Last night came rushing back to me. I had gotten a tad drunk, went after my plan by making out with Paxton, and ended up getting almost suffocated by mud. I knew she was going to snap in some way, anyone could see it, but I didn't know she would actually try to kill me. It ended well though, in retrospect. Everyone knew not to mess with me. To leave me alone because I wanted them to hate me. I wanted to be hated.

The thought bloomed in my head last night and resurfaced again this morning. It was easier for people to hate me. So much easier. But strangely, I felt lonely. Really lonely. It was a confusing feeling. Not wanting people to like you but feeling lonely about it all the same. Head vs. Thoughts. Thoughts vs. Heart. Heart vs. Head again. A vicious cycle that I've been wrestling with for years. The unhappiness that constantly overwhelmed me was beginning to wear me out. I could feel myself becoming unraveled at the edges. Sooner or later I was going to come apart completely and who knows what I'll do then? Go on some rapid killing rampage or just damage myself further? Most likely the latter, honestly.

Becoming unraveled would end up letting people in too easily. I would say things that eluded to the real me. I couldn't let people see that. My only saving grace was that nobody saw the real me. That I actually closed myself off to the world. Once people were let in, it was too late and I was vulnerable. Completely and utterly vulnerable. I needed to shape up. Harden myself to the outside elements. I wondered precisely what made me start to slip up. Was it coming here? Not having my home or father's title to fall back on and make easier to rebel? That made me laugh slightly. The one thing I've come to resent completely, besides myself, was my father's title. It was one of the main things I strengthened myself to fight against and could it be the very thing making me lose my edge?

I acutely registered the fact that I was beginning to pace instead of move forward. Back and forth, back and forth in a constant pattern that I'm sure would ground a rivet in the stone if I was strong enough. All I wanted was some private place where I couldn't be bothered. Where I could sit and draw for hours without anyone finding me. Because that's what I truly needed to do—draw. It was the only possible way to stitch myself up enough to deal with other people around me. If I contained it within the pages of my sketch book it couldn't be released into the world.

Suddenly something caught the corner of my eye. A single door had bloomed in the expanse of a blank wall. Blinking at it, I allowed myself to marvel at the castle. It honestly was something—full of secrets and tricks just like the humans contained in its walls. I don't know what caused me to do it, because in the two weeks I've been here I've learned not to open doors that I don't know what is behind them. I've encountered that stupid little poltergeist one too many times (while mildly entertaining when he's not targeting me, him pretending the color of my hair blinds him to the point where he constantly runs into my head was getting old fast). But when the door was fully opened I was even more confused.

The room must be a dream. There is no way this castle would hold items of this nature. Every type of painting supply that I would ever need was occupying the small room. An easel was set up in front of a window the size of one of the four walls. It gave a vast and perfect view of the grounds and my fingers twitched at the thought of capturing it. Shelves built into the walls held canvases, paints, brushes, pencils, anything I would ever need. Every medium, magical and non-magical alike. Slowly I turned in place, taking it all in. The other three walls that weren't occupied by shelves were completely filled with pictures with empty backgrounds. A few heads peeked in from the side of the frames, identical surprised looks upon their faces.

"This is new," a lady with an elaborate braided hair-do stated simply. She plopped down in a frame containing a field of flowers and pulled out a ball of yarn and knitting needles from the folds of her voluminous skirts. "The Room has outdone itself, Pritchard."

"It certainly has," a man in a completely different medium agreed. He joined her in her frame, his harsh lines looking put out against the soft background, and looked at me with a cocked head. "State your name."

"Excuse me," I choked out, still in slight shock at the amount of items at my disposal.

"We would like to know who created this version of the room. It rarely puts portraits for us to explore on its walls," the man called Pritchard ordered from behind his ruffled collar. "State your name."

"Usually I treat portraits with respect because you're works of art that demand so, but I won't be spoken to like that," I snapped, crossing my arms over my chest.

"You'll have to excuse him. It's his era," the woman sighed, looking up from her knitting but not stopping the constant clicking of the needles. "I am Miss Fey, a depiction of the muggle mother of a past professor. That is Sir Prichard, a portrait of an old, grumpy, beneficiary. And you are?"

"I'm Adder," I shrugged, folding myself into the squashy arm chair.

"You don't seem very happy," Miss Fey commented. "I wish I could knit you a jumper. Jumpers make everything better."

"I don't think a simple sweater could cure my soul, Fey," I admitted, cracking open my sketch book and flipping to a fresh page. I began to roughly draw out some of the flowers we worked with in Herbology the other day now that I actually could get my hands on the colors to bring them to life.

"Your soul is maimed?!" Pritchard questioned with a large gasp.

"It's certainly not very pleasant," I admitted. A part of me felt ashamed I was talking to them. It was doing the very thing I was trying to prevent—sharing myself with someone else. But I've always had a soft spot for portraits. Nothing that beautiful and that perfect could be bad to me, so I relented and lifted a part of weight that has been bearing down on me.

"You seem more wary then when I last saw you young maiden."

I looked up and felt a small smile form on my lips. It was the monk that helped me the first day of classes.

"I never got your name," I admitted, my pencil hovering over the paper.

"Father Corkrin at your service," he announced with a small bow. "Now what is troubling thee?"

"Life I suppose. I'm not a very nice person to begin with. But now that I've found this room I think I'll be a bit better until I get out of this god-forsaken castle," I grumbled, accidentally snapping my pencil. With a put out sigh I took my wand and repaired it with a quick flick.

"Are you not happy here?" Miss Fey questioned quietly. I stopped drawing and looked up at the three people clustered within one frame.

"I'm not happy anywhere."

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"I'm sorry."

Kelly looked up from the pile of books she surrounded herself with and frowned slightly.

"For what?"

"For getting upset with you this morning," I shrugged, pulling out the chair next to her and plopping down in it. Kelly smiled slightly and angled herself so she was facing me, our knees just brushing together.

"Don't be. I underestimated how angry you would be and figured you wouldn't want me there," she announced, leaning back in her chair.

"She's my baby sister," I shrugged. "I may act like she's the ultimate thorn in my side but while we're here it's my job to protect her. Like Teddy did Victorie, like James worships Lily, like I even worry about Dominique. We're family; it's our job to look out for each other."

"Fred, why are you friends with Callen if you hate him that much?" Kelly groaned, leaning forward and capturing my cheeks in her hands.

"History? Because it wouldn't be conducive to hate someone that sleeps in the same room as you eight months of the year. Because I don't truly hate anyone," I admitted. "I just don't trust him with her."

"I know it sucks bollocks to watch your kid sister get involved with someone, especially someone like Callen, but you _have_ to let her make her own mistakes. The best thing you can do is be there to pick up the pieces," Kelly announced. I worried my bottom lip between my teeth for a few seconds before letting out a small sigh.

"Ryan said the same thing before he left."

"Ryan's the smart one out of you two," Kelly laughed. Grinning slightly I nudged my knee against hers.

"Why do I put up with you? You're so mean to me."

"Because you love me and I'm a good snog," she answered seriously, repeating the words I said to her on the first day back to classes.

"That's only when we're drunk!" I mocked, heightening my voice so it was all squeaky.

"Do I honestly sound like I'm on Helium Hocks?" she frowned.

"Yes," I answered seriously, grinning as she leaned in and kissed me lightly. I pulled away and pushed a smile on my face. This was Kelly. She's fit. She gets me. It was nice snogging her a few times a year. I _should_ want to try it further. I _should_ enjoy kissing her as my girlfriend and not a hook up. I want this. This is a good experiment.

Everyone I encountered today has said something along the lines of expecting this to happen, even though I don't exactly know how they found out already. The only people who reacted queerly were Ryan and Dominique. They seemed slightly put out but accepted it. This has been building up to happen for ages. And I believe it. Grabbing Kelly around her tiny waist, I hoisted her into my lap and pressed my lips against hers. I believe it.

And as I closed my eyes, pictures burst behind them that didn't necessarily fit in the puzzle that was building around me. The pictures showed fiery and hot before settling somewhere deep in my stomach. It was somewhat different than I expected would come along with Kelly. Kelly usually was soft and feminine but _electric_. That's a thought that comes with Kelly—electric, not so much fire. I suppose that things are different when put in this situation. So I'll take it as that. Different. We're trying something different.

* * *

**A/A: OHMYMERLIN! You get three chapters in three days?! I've actually found myself getting back on track in this story. I know exactly (somewhat) how each chapter is going to go. That's exciting and there's some really FANTASTIC scenes circling my brain.**

**But it's also the time in the story where I'm like 'What the eff is this shit that I'm writing?'. I don't know if I should've revealed the slight vulnerability to Adder just yet, but the story kinda did it on its own. And Fred, while amazing in my mind, is changing in the story from his original character. I'm not quite sure if it's development or just bad on my part. I want to believe it's development but there's that niggling doubt that sucks. Often I write and then realized that it's not what I intended to be, but kinda wrote itself. I don't know, maybe this story isn't as good as I envisioned in my mind. Tell me what you think so I feel better? I really like it because it's very different from my other stories—but I'm not sure about it overall. **

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	13. Chapter 12

"Do they put some sort of enchantment on this castle that makes time go by at a flobberworm pace?" I sighed as I sat back on my haunches and examined my work. Using my thumb I gently brushed against the surface of the lake, smudging the reflection of a tree more accurately. I plopped down on my butt and began to massage my knees. They were getting a bit worn from the constant kneeling in front of the canvas, but I preferred painting this way because it allowed me to move about in ways that chairs restricted. As soon as the room realized this it got rid of any of the chairs I don't lounge in. It was amazing, this place, always seems to create exactly what I need when I need it. Except food—for some reason it doesn't do food.

"I believe the saying goes—time moves faster when dreading something, but slower when you anticipate something," Fey tsked, looking up briefly from her constant knitting.

"So that means I'll never get out of here," I sighed, cocking my head to the side and really examining my work. It was coming along well, considering I've never worked with pastels before. I've always stuck to pencil and charcoal but with the supplies I was given why not give it a go? "Does the shadow look lopsided?"

"You're diverging from the point, dear," Fey sighed.

"When was a point brought up?" I questioned, itching at my nose briefly before turning my full attention to the portraits. They were beginning to become my sanity here, because frankly I wasn't going to make it. Nothing was working. Nothing at all. I don't turn in my homework. I get detention nearly every day (which I mostly don't show up to) and I cause as much verbal trouble as I can. And what do I get? Nothing! Nothing at all! Not even a letter home! Or if they were sending them I didn't know about it because on top of everything, I haven't gotten one letter from home. I've been here almost a month and nothing. Whatsoever. Looks like things are going on just too perfectly now that I'm gone. I don't exist to them anymore. Out of sight, out of mind.

"The unspoken point, dear lady," Corkrin sighed, bursting into my thoughts. "The point is that you have no other social interaction beside us and we aren't such good company."

"You're fine company. And I've already told you guys that I don't want to be social. You're all enough for me and I shouldn't be talking to you in the first place. It goes against my principle," I shrugged, picking up a pastel and rolling it between my fingers.

"We're worried about you, girl," Pritchard huffed.

"Because that tone of voice says exactly that much," I laughed, looking up at them.

"You know he doesn't have any other," Fey sighed. "You need friends your age, ones that actually breathe in and out and have a beating heart."

"Fey, I've told you a million times. Those type of people disgust me. All they do is talk behind my back and try to hex me. So no thank you to the whole making friends deal. I'll pass. Plus—it's not like I'll be here much longer anyways."

"That doesn't seem like a feasible prospect," Pritchard snorted.

"You underestimate me, sir," I snapped, standing up and wiping my hands on the seat of my skirt. "Now I'm going to go get some food and hide until classes are in session. I've been in attendance for far too long and I feel like it's about time for me to ditch some."

"That idea doesn't seem very superior," Corkrin shouted after me as I shut the door. I rolled my eyes at the three paintings that have been acting far too much as my conscience lately. I appreciated the company because things were a living hell otherwise, but I did need the time to myself sometimes. Things were worse then I was telling them.

Things were getting steadily worse for me. I wish they would go back to ignoring me. Since that stupid party, almost a week ago, I've been the center of all scorn. Usually I can handle scorn—it's come with my recent personality. But I think they're worse here. I'm a pariah here in these halls. I've been branded as the she-devil. The one to stay away from at all costs—unless you're looking to send a hex my way. Then they notice me. But this is exactly what I wanted. I need to be hated because that is my ticket home. I wish that home would come faster because I was getting kinda lonely and the couples didn't help much.

With the close of that party came the outburst of things of such disgusting of a nature that I wanted to puke on a daily basis. Couples. _Everywhere_. I couldn't turn in one single direction without seeing one. They made me want to gouge my eyes out to be completely honest. I've never seen such an epidemic. It seems as if my 'House' is the worst. It's one of the reasons I spend all my time in my sanctuary because I can't stand to spend an extra second in that place. I can't turn any which way without seeing, or hearing, something about how fabulous a relationship was going.

Funnily enough the cause of my strife seems to spawn from one specific family. James and Kaylie, Roxy and Callen (yeah, that one threw me for a loop as well. Who knew he could stay with a pair of tits longer than a one night stand?), and the worst one of all _Fred and Kelly_. If James and Kaylie weren't arguing they were being annoyingly adorable. Callen and Roxy were making out on a constant basis. And Fred and Kelly—well that one just seems to be a completely impossible relationship. They were too—_perfect. _

They were too agreeable. They fit together in that way that made you squint your eyes and contemplate if they were being _Imperiused_ or something. There was something just wrong about it. The way they held hands, spoke, and (ugh) kissed each other seemed forced. Like this whole thing was expected of them so it happened. I feel as if unhappiness on their parts would be better than this—but then again I wish unhappiness on most everyone under this roof. Who's to say it's not biased? That I _want_ him to be as unhappy as I was because he was my first true encounter of this world. My first 'peer'. That could be it. Or they could just make me want to hurl and that would be enough to question their being together. Who knows, my mind's a twisted place. I try not to decipher things of this nature anymore—I prefer to just be revolted. It's a lot simpler that way.

I started to rummage in my bag as I made my way down the stairs. I probably would have to hide out in a bathroom for a bit before I go to the kitchens for food, just to avoid the class changing flood of humans. I was going to need something to occupy myself in the time being. I was just fisting a hand around one of my nail polish bottles when I rammed into something entirely solid and winded up ricocheting backwards before sliding painfully down the last couple of stairs. I swear to Merlin, if another person put up a shield charm to keep me out of certain corridors I will massacre them. This is the second time! Didn't I prove that I'm more then capable of kicking ass in a duel?! Sage was aiming to maim while I only to injure and I _still_ beat her in the end.

But when I snapped my head up to figure out just who cast the charm, I was surprised to find that it was an actual person I'd run into. Sprawled on his ass was the very person I've been avoiding seeing in order to keep various meals down.

"For the love of Godric Gryffindor, Ryan, don't you look where you're going?" Weasley groaned, rubbing his tailbone as he gathered the books sprawled around him.

"I could say the same thing about you. Have you joined the dark side and started skipping classes?" I questioned, flicking my wand and cleaning up the mess that my stuff created.

"What're you talking about, woman? I was just coming from breakie. Which I noticed you weren't in attendance at. You haven't been at many meals lately. Starving yourself?" he questioned, standing up and holding out a hand to me. I took it without thinking. It was an impulse. As soon as our hands met I could feel the electricity course through my veins, making me start and drop his hand like it was fire. Damn, I have to recover from_ that_ somehow. So, I wrinkled my nose at it, causing him to sigh and retract the appendage. "Right—see you still follow the whole cooties rule of thumb."

"Just yours, Weasley. I might get the dumbass germ passed on to me. I'll have to scour this hand. And you _just _came from breakfast? Shit, you mean the first class hasn't even started yet? Fuck—I really got a get a watch and stop trying to tell time by the sun," I groaned, speaking fast to cover my blunder. Now I just sound like a bumbling imbecile.

"See your mouth is still quite dirty," he grinned, pulling something out of his bag. "I could wash it out for you, if you'd like."

"I'm sure your girlfriend wouldn't want _any _of you anywhere near my mouth," I smirked, fluttering my lashes at him. He wrinkled his brow and flipped the small chocolate bar in his hand.

"The candy would've done the job just fine, Ryan. Didn't need to bring it round to sex again," he sighed. "It creates soap bubbles the size of a Quaffle to spill out of your mouth when eaten. New product."

"You tell me like I care," I snorted, stepping forward and running my fingers up his arm. He stiffened slightly and looked at me with pure bewilderment. That shocked me slightly. It wasn't anger or dislike but confusion. So because_ I _was curious I pushed on, stepping a bit closer to him and smirking up at his puzzled face. "Smart trick really. Trouble causers are on the top notch of my list."

"What the hell are you playing at?"

"Oh! Your leash is a tight one, isn't it?" I commented.

"I was just trying to figure that out, Kel," Fred sighed, turning back to look at his girlfriend. She was standing about a foot away, her arms crossed and a very peeved look on her face. "Ryan's in a peculiar mood today."

"Just trying some new things, Kelly, seeing what reactions I get. Yours is by far the best one, to be completely honest," I declared, smiling broadly as Kelly put a possessive hand in the crook of Fred's elbow.

"Where were you this morning anyways? You weren't in bed when we all woke up and you got in fairly late last night. What guy is cavorting with you now?" Kelly sighed. She didn't even say it with malice. It was more like what she said was a given fact and she was curious.

"Ah—so that's what this school has degraded me to. I see. Well where, or who with, I was this morning is none of your business. Have a lovely day," I spat, shouldering my bag and brushing past them. I wouldn't even bother correcting their information. Maybe if it got back to McGonagall that I've been sleeping my way through the castle, they'll send me home because of _that. _

"Was it a clown, Ryan, because the back of your skirt has a bunch of colored stuff on it? And it was smudged across your nose as well. Cute look really," Fred shouted after me. I froze and turned around, quirking an eyebrow at him.

"Yes, Weasley—I have this gigantic fetish for _clowns_. This castle just supplies them by the dozen, as well. Really perks my sexual fantasies. Don't even try to be funny if that's the shit you come up with. Get a life and stop staring at my ass. Your girlfriend is right there," I sighed, winking at him before strutting away. I didn't even have to turn around to know that he was still looking, probably to his girlfriend's chagrin.

So I didn't calculate my time spent in my studio correctly, but I sure as hell got some entertainment out of it. The only problem was that I was definitely going to have to hide out until the first classes were in. So with a put upon sigh, I slipped into the bathroom and closed myself into a stall. Pulling out the bottle of polish I was originally searching for I began to methodically paint my nails. It wasn't until halfway through my second hand that I heard the door slam open and close with a loud bang. I almost upturned the ink black paint all over myself. Instead I cursed myself at my sudden ability to be surprised so easily and froze when the voices reached my ears.

"I just don't get why she's so unhappy," Kelly was groaning as the taps turned on. "She just seems so angry all of the time."

"Will everyone just shut it with Addison Ryan?! She's honestly not that big of a deal and we've encountered worse _Slytherins_ out there. She doesn't need to be everyone's main focus. It's getting quite tiresome," Dominique sighed. "Especially with Fred's little—"

I had to bite my lip against the retorts that rose in my throat. It seems that _one_ person hasn't fallen for the dish I'm serving. But the mention of Fred's name made me stop. Possible information to use against him?

"Fred's what?" Kelly questioned slowly.

"Nothing," Dominique replied quickly.

"Look Dom, I know you're not necessarily happy about us starting to date," Kelly sighed, switching off the water. "But doesn't it mean something to you that he's happy?"

"I don't care about him dating and of course I want him happy—as annoying as he is. I just don't think that dating you is a good idea."

"And why not?" Kelly questioned defensively.

"Because I think you only belong as friends, for one reason. You just seem forced, really. And as for the second reason—I'm surprised you don't see it."

"See what?"

"C'mon! _I_ see it, Ryan sees it, and even _James _of all people is starting to see it. You know him as well as the lot of us. The only person that doesn't see it is Fred because he doesn't even know it yet," Dominique declared—she sounded like she was talking to a small child. "And apparently you don't either. But I'm fairly sure you do."

"I don't know what you're talking about," Kelly announced. She sounded strained.

"Well to be honest I don't know if it's a good idea for him to ever realize it, really. It has potential for him to get rather hurt. But just be careful. I don't know if you two will last long with what you're going for because I don't believe you're the best match, but for both of your happiness I hope you do. And that's the truth. I don't _not _want you to work out. I just honestly don't think you will. It may be blunt but I'm not one for beating around the bush.

"Now, to change the subject from something unbelievably awkward, are you going to go watch Quidditch trials tonight? Lou and I were going to go scope out the competition and I suppose be supportive along with it, but you're welcome to sit with us. I'll be by myself when Lou runs keeper for the trial," Dominique finished.

"Nice tactic," Kelly sighed. I felt my eyebrows rise in question. I've never known anyone to take something like that lying down. In my experience girls usually hate those that speak ill of their relationship. It seems that Dominique has quite a pull in people's lives, especially Fred's. I will store such information for later, but currently my attention was focused on Quidditch trials. Joining a team here would be the worst idea ever. It would be placing myself in something organized that this school offers and I'm obviously trying to avoid such. But the idea of playing again was a rather tempting offer. Even through all my anti-social behavior back home I still played Quidditch. Of course I played it on my terms and only showed up to practices when I felt like it—but I was their best chaser so they couldn't boot me from the team.

"I appreciate the honesty, but I truly hope to prove you wrong. I've actually kinda fancied Fred for a bit now."

"I suppose I hope you do too, even if I think you fancy the idea of you being _with_ him and not so much _him_ himself. But that's just me being blunt again. And as for Adder," Dominique sighed. "Don't feel bad for her. She's in charge of her own happiness, not all of us. The best we can do is not fuel everyone around us. Just think—she won't be at trials today so that's a step towards not worrying about her any longer. The sooner we ignore her the sooner she'll get off her high hippogriff and stop whatever cries for attention she's going for."

Kelly laughed as there was noise of them gathering their belongings.

"I don't suppose ignoring a problem will make her go away—but it's better then what everyone else is doing. I'm not looking to hex her but part of me thinks that if she has just one friend here she wouldn't be so upset all of the time. But you're right—at least we have Quidditch to count on an 'Adder-Free Zone'."

And then the door slammed shut and I was left in silence once again. But instead of the worry free silence I had not ten minutes ago I was left with a buzzing head. If they wanted an 'Adder-Free Zone' they sure as hell were going to get the opposite. Obviously I wasn't making myself hated enough. Here I was practically shoving my hand down her boyfriend's pants and the chick felt _sorry_ for me. Were people in this country deranged? It seems like Sage was the sanest girl I've encountered so far. At least she acted like a normal girl. A normal girl with mental problems but a normal girl nonetheless. But I was going to show her. Show her I didn't need her pity. I didn't need her sympathy. I didn't need her friends. I didn't need anything from anyone. The only thing I needed was to raise as much hell as possible. Looks like I was bringing things to the sky.

**Fred**

"Ignore her."

"Ignore her?" Kelly repeated furrowing her brow.

"Dom is fiercely opinionated at the best of times, which lately haven't graced her. She misses Cameron so her opinions are fairly biased," I snorted, mounting my broom so I could hover even with Kelly while she stood in the stands. She grinned as I planted a soft kiss on her forehead.

"You should write Cameron then. Invite him to Hogsmede next weekend," she suggested as I began to adjust my beaters gloves. I paused and cocked my head to the side as I contemplated her suggestion.

"That's a brilliant idea," I grinned. "I'll write him tonight."

Kent blew his whistle sharply, signaling the remaining members of the team to converge in the center of the field where a large group of hopeful Keepers and Chasers stood. I gave Kelly a quick kiss and flew over, landing lightly with the rest of the team. Our team only lost two members at the end of last year; Victoire to graduation and Ryan to that professional team.

"Right, I guess we can start off with Chasers and then have the three of us try the Keepers?" Kent started, clapping his hands before roughly rubbing them together, which caused him to awkwardly juggle the broom and clipboard tucked under his arms. He turned hesitantly towards Roxy and me before glancing at Callen amongst the Keeper hopefuls. "Can you two get along long enough to allow us a proper trial?"

Roxy and I looked at each other, her eyes narrowing slightly. Since our blow up a week ago things haven't been the best between us. We both tend to be slightly hot headed (though her's shows itself far more than mine does), a trait we inherited from our mum. As of late neither of us can speak without getting upset with the other. It always leads back to Callen and then things go from bad to worse. It doesn't help that they snog all over the place.

"I have no problems with Roxy. She can do what she pleases with whom she pleases," I answered stiffly. Roxy looked at me with shock, a slight grin on her face. Yeah—I was going to be the bigger person here. I can get along with her.

Well that and I kinda have to justify the fact that I put purple dye in her shampoo earlier. She was going to be mad enough as it was tomorrow (and with violent purple hair) so I might as well be cordial today. For the sake of every Gryffindor that will have to face her wrath.

"Yeah," Roxy echoed with a small shrug. Kent looked at us for a long moment before hefting a sigh.

"Right, you better. I'm not afraid to replace either of you."

"Here, here," James chimed in, slinging an arm around Derrick Creevey, our Seeker's shoulder's. "Der and I won't stand for an unbalanced team."

Kent gave his best mate an incredulous look before shaking his head and walking towards the hopefuls.

"He's paranoid that he won't be able to live up to Wood. Been fretting about it constantly all week," James muttered to the rest of us.

"He'll do fine. As long as none of us die and we win," I laughed. "Then again—the odds might not be in his favor. The luck might've been held with having a Wood on our team." James gave me a nasty look and socked me in the arm. We were just getting into a rather violent punching battle when Derrick broke our concentration.

"What the—" he breathed, squinting in the direction of the castle. We all turned that way (my head still locked in James' elbow, which he immediately dropped upon the sight) and I could swear you could hear a feather drop. The _hair_ was discernable from the distance. Fire brimming over the semi-darkening sky. An omen to us all. May Merlin help the world.

"Oh shit," James laughed, looking over at me with raised eyebrows. I didn't make any certain face in response. Honestly I was becoming more and more confused about Adder Ryan. First off, she wasn't around anymore since her great duel. She's seemed to disappear into thin air. Not turning up anywhere besides lessons, but that ended because I guess she decided lessons were too much today. I found myself wondering where the heck she goes. Where in the castle does she disappear to? I just don't get it.

And then there was this morning. What brought her coming on to me again? I was beginning to wonder exactly what her overall plan was. I pride myself in my ability to read people, because it's how you successfully market a prank, but for all my magic I couldn't read _her_. It frustrated me. I've never had a year where I was continually frustrated, not that I necessarily showed it.

"Try outs are here, correct?" she questioned, her broom slung over her shoulder and a pair of dark glasses perched on her nose.

"You're trying out?" Kent questioned, a slightly dumb-founded look on his face. "Can you fly?"

"I'm decent," she smirked. "Thought I'd get a little school pride going."

"What?" I laughed, turning her attention on me. She cocked an eyebrow in response. "What are you playing at? You hate people. And by people I mean me. Why would you want to associate yourself with _anything_ I'm involved him."

"I'm looking to play some Quidditch, Weasley," she replied with a slight smirk. "You can deflate your head because luckily the game doesn't revolve around you."

"You're real funny, Ryan," I snorted. "Why are you looking to join a team sport? You're more anti-social then a werewolf."

"Maybe I'm bored." She sighed. "Are you not going to let me try out?"

All eyes slid to Kent, who looked rather upset about the whole transaction. Adder bat her lashes at him and practically purred her next statement. "What do you say captain? Are you going to let Weasley cost you the best Chaser you'll ever see or are you going to use your sense?"

Kent looked completely torn for a matter of seconds. He looked quickly at his team gathered around him and then back at Adder before jerking his head in the direction of the hopefuls.

"Get to the back of the group," he grunted, training his eyes on his clipboard. I noticed the definite twinge to the back of his neck. I knew, one hundred percent, my jaw was fully open. What in the name of Merlin was going on? Adder smiled full as she brought her hand out in a mocking salute before sauntering over to the large mass of people.

"What the bloody hell?" Roxy giggled. "I think you may have just given Fred an aneurism."

"Fred, breathe," James commanded, pounding a hand hard on my back. "Oxygen is essential to living, you know."

I gave him a swift slap to the back of his head before whirling on Kent. James immediately transferred to stand next to Kent, crossing his arms over his chest. It was clear even he didn't know what Kenneth was on about, but as his best mate he planned to be on his side. Kent held up a palm before I could even get a word in edgewise.

"Before you get ridiculous, Fred, I _have_ to let her try out. I've got to let every eligible Gryffindor have a go. Now let's get a move on before we lose light completely. You and Roxy get in the air—I'm having Chasers try first," Kent ordered, his voice hard with authority. I knew he was aware that I could get him back for this tenfold in the prank department, but his stance fought otherwise. This bloke was hell-bent upon making a solid place for himself as Capitan. So with a small groan, I mounted my broom and took to the air, allowing the rush of wind blow away any frustrations I possessed. That's the fabulous thing about being a beater. No matter how upset you were, it only made you play better. The more angry, or frustrated, or sad you were the harder you hit the damn bludger.

"Don't hurt anybody, please," Louis groaned, halting in his streak towards the goals.

"I don't plan on taking this out on anyone in particular," I snorted.

"Right—and I'm not a bloody good Keeper," he declared, raising his eyebrows and jerking his head back down towards the crowd. Even at this height I knew who he was talking about.

"I'm just going to give her a fair trial," I replied innocently.

"I don't know what it is about this girl Freddy, but she brings out this side of you that rarely sees the sun," he sighed, cocking his head to the side. I felt the need to dispute this but in terms of the people I open up to—Louis is always the one that has been able to see right through any façade I put up. James is the one I go to for pranking advice and moral support with my crazy-arse ideas. Dominique and Kelly are the ones for the girly stuff. Ryan is there for everything and anything. But when I don't want to put up the cheery face that I normally wear and just _be_ I go to Louis.

"She just has this way to get under my skin," I settled with.

"Why do you let her bug you so much? Why don't you just ignore it like you do every other annoying girl?"

"For some reason, I just can't," I groaned, swinging my bat arm around to warm the muscle up.

"You might wanna figure that out, cuz, it could be the answer to your current predicament," Louis announced before zooming away towards the three bronze hoops, leaving me gaping after him. For the love of Merlin, how could he just say _that_? It's just such a _Lou_ response; all philosophical and never directly the answer. He always makes me think about what the answer might be. Figure it all out for myself. Bloody Ravenclaw. Why couldn't he be the abnormal eagle and be perfectly blunt like his sister?

"Oi! Are you going to make me fight two on my own, Fredrick?! Kent released the Bludgers like two minutes ago!" Roxy hollered as she zipped by, chasing after one black ball while the other followed close behind. I almost fell off my broom in my haste to get a move on, but soon I was getting back in the rhythm of things. Working through each contestant and firing shot after shot at the three people trying to shoot at Louis.

Kent had done the normal route—seeing who could shoot the most goals against himself and James in the time given. The best one would get a spot with. I guess what I said about our problems being dealt with off the pitch really hit home with Roxy because we were playing just as well as always. It was strange how perfectly my sister and I meshed on the pitch. Dad says it's like watching him and his twin play. We could almost read each other mind. I saw her zoom past me out of the corner of my eye, flanking just a few inches off a burly sixth year that was trialing. Feeling my shoulder pop naturally I smacked the bludger in her direction. It hit the very center of her bat, ricocheting off and smack dab into the hopeful's shoulder causing him to drop the Quaffle and end his turn.

Kent gave a sharp blow of his whistle and I pulled up, resting both arms over my head in order to breathe out the stitch in my side. Man I was rusty—I was going to need to create a major training regimen to get back into proper shape. I couldn't believe I let myself slip so much. It wasn't like I've missed much playing—it's only been a couple Saturday's since our last family game.

"Fred! You ready to go? It's the last one," Kent questioned, flying alongside me and moping his brow with his arm. I felt my jaw lock instantly. I glanced down at the ground—picking out the red speck that was just mounting a broom. "Don't try to kill her, yeah?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," I replied, grinning slightly at him. Kent rolled his eyes, placing his whistle in his mouth and giving it a sharp blow as he flew back towards the center of the pitch. Roxy and I made eye contact with each other and I knew that even though we were definitely on the outs as of now, we weren't going to let that affect our job. Being a solid team meant more than anything now. Nobody knew how impressive Adder's skills in the sky actually were but none of us wanted to take the chance of dealing with her up to five times a week during practices.

With another blow of the whistle, Derrick banished the Quaffle in the air. I'd never seen anyone move that quickly. Adder shot into the air like a stunning spell, powering ahead of both James and Kent and snatching the Quaffle under her arm. It took me a pregnant pause to realize that I actually had a job to do and luckily I realized in time because Roxy had passed a Bludger to me and it was currently hurtling towards my face. With an easy swing I fired it towards the streak of red that was Adder's hair. It was like she was liquid. Just moments before my shot hit her she circled gracefully under the obstacle with it barely grazing a hair on her head. I let out a frustrated groan and shot back towards the bludger, desperate to take out my pent up annoyance on the piece of equipment that could actually take a beating.

And to be completely frank, the bludger took quite a beating from me within the next quarter of an hour that Adder's trail took up. No matter how hard and how craftily Roxy and I smacked the ball she always evaded it in some way. It was like she had a super-sensory charm on her. Like she could sense its presence and at the last moment dip out of the way. It killed me to admit it, but she really was a spectacular flyer. Her chasing abilities were also top-notch but it lacked the teamwork that Gryffindor usually employs. She flew like a bat out of hell—dead bent upon causing destruction to whoever got in her way. It echoed the very nature she walked on the ground with. If she had the Quaffle in her hands she made sure nothing got in her way of an eventual point.

There was a moment earlier in her trial where Roxy and I had her flanked and were passing a bludger between us and waiting for the proper moment to strike. I saw a slip in her strategy; it was a stroke of luck really. A wasp got in the way of my bat one swing and ended up rocketing into the arm she employed in holding the Quaffle. She got stung and in that small moment of weakness Roxy fired the bludger at her in order to get the Quaffle to James circling below. Adder rolled off her broom, freefalling mid air to avoid our shot. James was so surprised he didn't move as Adder used his floating broom to catch herself before rolling back on her own flying apparatus that she dragged down with her. We all just sat there, hovering mid-air as she shot the goal. Never had any of us seen such a reckless strategy, which was something considering most of us play with each other outside of school and games get pretty insane there.

Her turn was coming to a close and each and every one of us was getting beyond agitated. She was clearly superior to everyone that trialed before her. Nobody wanted to admit that she probably got the best of us _and_ the spot on the team, so everyone of us were adding effort upon effort to prove that she wasn't the choice. James and Kent were playing some of their craftiest moves. Louis, the poor soul, was doing his best to block her shots. While he was able to block a good many—the same amount got through. And Rox and I? Well we were shooting bludger after bludger her way. I glanced at the fiery numbers hovering above the stands that counted down the time. There was just about enough for her to shoot one more goal. I felt determination coursing through my veins. At this point it was more than obvious that she had the position but for my own pride I needed this. I needed to best her in some way.

The closest bludger was making a loop in the opposite direction. Bearing down on the footholds of my broom I shot up in the air and cut down, intercepting its track. Cornering it to a point, I paused for the briefest of seconds in order to time out the shot right. Adder was currently looking over her shoulder to give James and Kent the slip when I gave it one of my hardest whacks. My ball screamed through the air at the same time the second bludger did. It seemed that the communication between Roxy and I blipped at this point because there was now two bludgers firing at identical speeds towards Adder.

She was just dodging a counter-attack from the other two Chasers when she noticed the bludgers hurtling at her. You could see every thought cross her face in that split second. She knew she was going to get massacred by the bludger if she went for the shot—everyone knew such; there was no way to avoid it. But instead of ducking out of the path of destruction, a look of determination set her features and she shot the bloody Quaffle! She shot it! The only reason it went through the goal was because Louis was too busy preparing to pull her from danger. But, unfortunately she was too late. Roxy's shot hammered her directly in the elbow while mine caught the tail-end of her broom sending her spiraling out of control.

Never has a trial got this intense. Games have gone this far, of course, because each house is determined to win the cup. But when it came to trials—we never aimed to hurt anyone because it could mean hurting a potential teammate. I suppose the competitiveness was hyper-vigilant with all of us, though. I could see that none of us were willing to let one person totally get the best of us and make us look like first years up in the sky. I knew then that it was probably a tad too far. Adder was spiraling out of control—the use of one of her arms completely null. She smashed side-longed into one of the goals, hurtling towards the ground. I found myself flying down towards the ground as she lay heaped there. I don't know what the pull was. It couldn't have been her. No—it had to be the need that no Weasley (nor Potter) could stand to let anyone be hurt and _not_ help.

"Shit guys! Told you _not_ to kill her," Kent groaned into my ear as he and James flanked me. I gave him an annoyed grunt and put on a bit of speed, my legs practically collapsing on impact to the ground. I heard the thump of everyone else behind me as I reached her side.

She was just stirring, a loud groan escaping her lips as she rolled onto her back. Her nose was bleeding freely from smashing into the ground and she was cradling her arm across her chest.

"Fuck," she heaved, rolling slightly to the side and biting hard on her lower lip. "That was an epic shot from the Beaters. I think I just got knocked back to America."

"Oh Merlin—guys I think she's really hurt," I groaned, turning around at the crowd of faces behind me. "She just bloody complimented me."

"I think she might've smashed her head in," James added, kneeling down beside me and peering at Adder. I furrowed my brow and turned back to her, noticing the blood that her hair had concealed upon my first inspection. "Someone better get her to Madame Fey."

"I don't need anyone's help. I'm fine," she groaned, her eyes fluttering open. They weren't as sharp as they usually were when she eyed everyone gathered around her.

"Ryan—you're bleeding from every orifice and I'm one hundred percent sure that arm is broken," I snorted, gently placing a hand under her shoulder.

"Are you mad? You can't move her. What if she broke her back," Louis declared, slapping my wrist.

"Move me?! Don't _touch _me!" She spat, rolling her head to the side and spitting some of the blood from her nose out of her mouth. "I'm fine!"

"Don't be even more of an idiot than you already are," I sighed, un-pocketing my wand and quickly conjuring a stretcher. "Dom—can you help me move her on to this? You all just continue with the Keeper trials. I'll take her up to Fey—it was my shot."

With the help of my cousin I lifted a thrashing Adder onto the cotton bed floating beside me.

"Will you lay off the movement, woman? You're going to injure yourself further," I snapped, glaring down at her. She merely glared back at me, her uninjured arm pressed hard against her nose.

"I can walk myself!" she snapped, throwing her legs to the side. The stretcher tipped dangerously as her weight shifted, depositing her onto the ground. She let out a rather pathetic whimper.

"See! If you weren't so damn stubborn that wouldn't have happened!"

"I'm not a cripple! I can walk on my own!"

"You have a head wound, a broken nose, and a shattered elbow and you don't want assistance? You've got thrill issues, Ryan," I shot back. Dominique looked between the two of us and rolled her eyes.

"I'm not going to let you tote me on a stupid stretcher. I don't want your help. I don't want anyone's help," she replied after her pitiful noises of pain subsided completely. I gave Dominique an exasperated look, to which she replied with a shrug. I paused for a moment, raising my eyes to the heavens and cursing my luck before bending down and scooping Adder easily into my arms.

"Will you put me down?!" She snapped, kicking her legs for a moment before groaning in pain.

"Will you quit moving?" I shot back, starting immediately up the pitch. Slowly her legs stopped lashing out, which surprised me to the point of freezing in place and looking at her. Her eyes were clenched shut and her teeth were obviously grinding together, her jaw jumping with each pass. I blinked in surprise—she must be in more pain then she let on if she stopped fighting me. I figured I was going to have to endure her struggling the whole way to the Hospital Wing. "Why aren't you crying?"

Her eyes flew open at my sudden attempt at conversation, the ice blue piercing as she looked up at me. She didn't answer me right away—her jaw still moving as she ground her mouth. But finally she allowed three words to pass her lips.

"I don't cry."

"You've never cried in your whole entire life. C'mon, even I would be crying by now. You've probably broken at least five bones and have fallen from a pretty good height. _Anybody _would be crying right now."

"You're a pussy then," she spat, arching her back slightly and screwing her face up. I stopped walking again, waiting until whatever spasm of pain stopped before carefully going again.

"I'm actually carrying you to the Hospital Wing and you _still_ insult me. You're incredible," I sighed.

"I didn't ask for your help!"

"But you obviously needed it. So shut your trap and just accept it. I'm obviously not expecting any sort of thank you so your silence will have to do," I laughed, gently climbing up a few stairs. "You're quite the Quidditch player though."

"Don't expect me to return the compliment," she groaned, turning her face into my chest.

"You already did. You must have a concussion as well if you don't remember. You said it was an epic hit by the beaters. Last I checked, I'm a beater," I announced, grinning easily and waiting for the comeback. It was a couple moments before a, very weak, very soft 'fuck off' was muttered. Her breathing was becoming shallower and I could feel a steady flow of blood make my shirt stick further to my chest.

"Hey now, Ryan, don't go passing out on me. That wouldn't be peachy. I really don't want your death on my hands. Couldn't imagine the punishment of killing the American Minister's daughter," I declared, wiggling her gently.

"You'd deserve it," came a soft reply.

"At least I didn't destroy your sharp tongue. Merlin forbid that happens, though I don't think even Azkaban could accomplish such," I joked.

"Stop it with the sexual euphemisms—you're girlfriend already looked ready to kill me today," she shot back.

"Speaking of, I'm going to take advantage of your injured state to ask what the hell you were on this morning. I thought I was already a notch on your bedpost—why go at me again, eh?"

There was another brief period of silence and I was grateful that the Hospital Wing was just around the corner because I didn't know how much farther she could go. I didn't know if it was the loss of blood or the head injury that was making her pass out, but I knew passing out was good for no one. Her answer came just as I was shouldering open the large wooden doors.

"It's fun to make you squirm. It gives me purpose," she sighed. I wanted to ask what she meant by that. I wanted to know why exactly _I_ was her target, because I could only deduce from that answer that there was actually a reason behind it. She was picking on me for a reason and I couldn't figure out why. A small part of me knew that this would probably be the most vulnerable I would ever see her, therefore the easiest time to get out information. I could finally know what made her tick and then she wouldn't be so confusing anymore. But unfortunately for me, Madame Fey ruined all plans that were suddenly blooming in my head.

"What in the name of Albus Dumbledore happened, Mr. Weasley?"

"Quidditch injury," I admitted as I placed her on the nearest bed. I caught sight of her just before Madame Fey bustled over and drew the curtain around them. She looked so different from the way I typically viewed her. Her eyes were moving spastically beneath pale lids and every inch of her face was drawn in pain. It was in that brief moment I saw something new about Adder Ryan. Yes—she still was tough as stone, even in obvious pain. But there was this small layer beneath it all. I couldn't figure out what it was. I didn't know what I was supposed to be seeing in her. All I knew was it was different and it made the tips of my fingers itch with a kind of longing that almost scared me.

It wasn't attraction. I didn't know if it was even a positive feeling. I just felt something brew just under the surface that I couldn't discern. It left me unnerved and almost unhinged. I didn't enjoy foreign feelings and I didn't enjoy how I couldn't figure it out. Louis' words came swirling back to me as I headed back towards the Pitch. And even though it wasn't something I wanted to explore—I asked myself _why. _Why _did_ I have such a problem with Adder Ryan? _Why_ do the things she does get to me?

"Hey! Is she okay?"

I was plucked from my thoughts so suddenly that I lost track of how I was walking and pitched forward suddenly. Kelly had made her way down to the barrier between the stands and the pitch, a slightly concerned look on her face. I hadn't even realized I made it this far down. Looking up into the sky, I briefly watched the Keeper trials commence before shrugging.

"She was pretty much passed out by the time I got her to Madame Fey, but I think she'll be okay. That nurse has dealt with worse," I replied, grinning slightly. "Like the time I accidentally shrunk all the bones in my left leg while testing that one product."

"It was nice of you to take her up there," Kelly stated, eyeing me with a look that I couldn't read.

"I kind of owed it to her—I did cause it," I replied with a small sigh. Kelly's head was cocked to the side as she examined me. It was like she wanted to see through me.

"Well it was nice," she repeated, leaning in and kissing me lightly on the lips. There was that feeling again. The swirling in the pit of my stomach. I felt suddenly exhausted. I hated having so many pent up feelings inside of me that I couldn't read. I hated not having control of myself. It's why I liked pranks and joking so much. Nothing got too serious. I always knew the outcome, laughter. I didn't like this unsettling thing that's resting on my shoulders. It looked like Cameron wasn't going to be the only one I would ask to come to Hogsmede next weekend—it looked like I was going to need to bribe Ryan to come down. If I didn't hash this out with _someone _I might explode and he was the most feasible option. He sometimes knew what was going on in my head better than I did. Ryan could always make sense of the most confusing situations. Dominique, James and Kelly wouldn't get it and I wasn't looking to solve it for myself like Lou would make me, so Ryan was the best option.

**A/A: ACK! Okay—I'm really freaking out over this because I think it might have been out of character for Fred. I tried to show that it was just as confusing to him as it might be to all of you. But I **_**can't**_** bring myself to write this light character for a whole story. I **_**can't**_** make him flat. I think it was time to shake up a bit. I don't know. I know where I'm going. I know how I want to build these characters but getting them to the proper points is taking slower then I wanted. It's becoming a lot heavier of a story than anticipated. Ugh. Don't worry—the next chapter will definitely have lighter moments. PLEASE tell me what you think because I'm freaking out here. **

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	14. Chapter 13

**A/F: Okay since I've gotten no feedback from the last chapter—well, I'm just going to push on through to the next. Hopefully break out of this funk I'm feeling. I don't know—I just want this story to move to some of the points I want to hit. GARHHHHH. BTW: Half this chapter wrote itself. I got to a point that I wanted but like the big parts—yeah. They came out of nowhere. So let me know if my characters are straying too off point. I'm just trying to create depth and for some reason I'm second guessing every single one of them. **

* * *

"Argh!"

"Any words to go with your indignation, girl?"

"You never cease to charm a woman, Pritchard. No—there are no words to go with my indignation because I'm too upset to form words. My eyes are all fucked up from this stupid concussion. Aren't potions supposed to make _all _your ailments disappear?" I groaned, chucking my paintbrush into the small canister of water and falling back so I could sit and examine my work. The current piece (watercolor) was coming along great. I'm trying different mediums of the same subject. So far I have one pastel, one colored pencil, and one charcoal of a small portion of the tree-lined lake. This one could very well be the best medium so far—if everything wouldn't stop going fuzzy on me. Stupid concussion.

"Potions only speed the process, girl. If you went to your courses you would gain such intelligence," Pritchard snapped. I turned to look at the stuffy medieval man.

"Honestly—your people skills astound me. Plus I don't need to go to class to be the top of the class," I declared dryly.

"They're almost as good as yours are, girl. And I find that very unlikely."

"Will you quit calling me 'girl', Pritch? I do have a name." I snorted, unfolding myself from the ground and heading over to the bookcase. Maybe if I walked away from all the lines and angles and shading things will be better. Just give myself a break. "Anyways, it's been a few days shouldn't the process be all sped up by now?"

"Go to class and find out?"

"Where's Fey and Corkrin? You're annoying me," I shot back, turning away to face the painting.

"Going on with their lives elsewhere in the castle, I suppose. Maybe if you spent more time out of this room, you would know that."

"Again, I repeat my annoyance. I should just ask the room to move your painting."

"You're not a barrel of fish yourself," he grunted. I blinked at him.

"That's the most stupid expression I think I've ever heard. Fish aren't something fun or even of substance. The point is I don't want to show my face. I don't want to go to class. I don't want to go to practice. I don't want to see people. People annoy me. People break my barriers and I say stupid shit that I shouldn't have ever said! Blood loss or not!" I snapped, all my words tumbling from me in quick succession. Pritchard just blinked at me as I sunk down into the nearest chair possible. It wound up being a straight-backed wooden number that I usually stored my shit on, but it served the needs.

"Well if that's not a revelation of character, I don't know what is," Pritchard sniffed. I roughly wiped my eyes and blinked away the silver dots that danced in space. The tryout has been storming in my mind for the past couple of days. We were already hitting October, already almost mid-week since. I've been here a full month and things weren't getting any better. Worst of all_ I_ was getting _weaker_. My defenses were crumbling. I told someone they gave me _purpose. _Fucking purpose! How vulnerable could I be?! Pretty damn vulnerable, obviously. Not only did I let a guy cradle me somewhere but I told him that something revolved around him.

How more stupid—how more innocent, could I honestly get? So in order to completely save face, I've made myself completely MIA. I don't go into the dormitory until after everyone's asleep, and then I'm gone before they wake up. I get my meals while everyone is in class and I spend all my other time in my studio (as I've begun to call it). It was the stupid list that sent me running. I close my eyes and still see it:

_Gryffindor Quidditch Roster_

_Keeper: Callen Parks_

_Chaser: Adder Ryan_

I was two hundred percent certain I wasn't actually going to get the spot on the team. Yeah I kicked complete ass in my try-out. I mean I blew _everyone_ out of the water. It was blatantly obvious, really. But it was also blatantly obvious that none of them wanted me on the team. I watched the people go before me. I saw how hard they went on them compared to me. I knew they wouldn't want me on their team. So why am I? I was just showing up to shake things up. I didn't think that I would become required to see these people up to five times a week.

I didn't think anyone would actually want to put up with me? But, then I get my ass handed to me by a pair of bludgers and I become incapable of taking care of myself. And of all the people there—who volunteers to be my fucking 'knight in shining armor'? Fred fucking Weasley. Weasley! I thought there was a mutual hate running between us? I thought everything was clear. It's clear to _me_! I mean, it should be clear. But if it was so clear, then why was my mind so foggy? 'Effing concussion.

"Miss Ryan, you look very ill," Pritchard declared, making me jump. I looked blankly at him for a moment before shaking myself.

"I just—I just have a headache. I think I'm going to go to the Medic's and get something for it. This should've all been gone by now. I just—I'm just—"I trailed off, feeling the air leave me. I thought solitary confinement would be better—easier? But it's not. It's just more difficult because now I have nothing but my art to keep me from over-analyzing why he would go out of his way to help me. And why I let my defenses down when I was around him. And why I was so utterly and completely stupid. Usually art is a good distraction but that's not even working. "I'm going. I'll be back later."

"Try staying out longer! It'll be good for you," Pritchard called as I slammed the door shut behind me. That man needed to get a life other than mine. Wandering the halls has become easier—especially since I've timed classes and meals perfectly and now that I know my way around. I can make it about without running into anybody but the stray ghost or painting. I'm sure McGonagall is blowing her top trying to locate me. I haven't shown up to five days of classes (including last Friday). That's gotta sound some sort of alarms in a place like this.

I was just rounding the third floor corridor where the Hospital Wing was located when I heard approaching footsteps. I felt myself freeze up, like a stupid deer in headlights. I haven't talked to a real person in days. I'm not mentally prepared to deal with this. I contemplated ducking behind the statue of Horris the Hunchback, but then I got a grip on myself. I'm Adder Ryan—I don't effing _hide_ from people. What the hell was this castle doing to me? Oh for the love of everything magical, of all people to find me frozen in the spotlight.

"Ryan?" Weasley questioned, stopping in his tracks. His right arm was covered from hand to elbow in garish pink spots. I was too busy eyeing his paint job and wondering who exactly I needed to congratulate for a great hex to notice that he was swiftly closing the distance between us. He stopped a few inches in front of me and began to _prod my face with his fingers. _

"What the _fuck _are you doing?!" I squealed, slapping away his hands. "I'm not looking to catch whatever STD is covering your skin there!"

"I'm just checking that you're really here. You've been completely missing for the past few days and I want to make sure you're not a ghost or anything. That happened before. I long time ago a basilisk got a girl in a bathroom and she stayed here as a ghost. Still haunts the girl loos. Might wanna make friendly with her since your count of human contact is what? None?" he rambled, tugging lightly on a lock of my hair. I swiftly punched him in the arm. He flinched on contact, but to be honest it didn't look like it hurt him much.

"Do I look fucking translucent to you?! Honestly, are you really that stupid?" I spluttered, looking at him in pure befuddlement.

"No—just checking," he shrugged, bringing up his infected arm and surveying it. "I should probably get this checked as well. Felix Felicis gone absolutely bonkers."

"What is your problem?" I questioned, taking a quick step back. Fred looked alarmed for a moment before looking down at the amount of space between us. I took another micro-step backwards. I suddenly felt myself flush all over and dug my fingernails into my palms. This was—this was weird, to say the least.

"I just—" Fred started, scrunching up his nose slightly. "Look. We're teammates now. So I figured we might as well not _hate_ each other. Though you didn't show up to practice last night so are you even accepting the position?"

"So you're just deciding for me that we're going to get along? I hate to break it to you, Weasley—that's a two way decision and frankly I'm not looking for that. I'm looking to stay on a one way street, thank you very much," I snapped, narrowing my eyes slightly.

"I'm not following your metaphor," Fred giggled. I wanted to hit him. Where does he get off thinking we're friends all of a sudden? So he carries me a couple hundred feet and all of a sudden we're building sand castles on the edge of the Black Lake? What the actual fuck?

"Back off. I'm not looking to be friends. I'm not looking to even be friendly! I'm looking to be left alone," I announced, my voice rising with every word until I found myself yelling the last syllable. Fred looked completely flabbergasted as I pushed past him and through the great double doors of the Hospital Wing. I deposited my bag on a spare bed and was just raising a fist to knock on the door to Madame Fey's private quarters when a there was a shout behind me.

"Oi! Ryan! That's bloody uncalled for! No need to scream at me!" Fred bellowed, storming into the room. I flipped on him, the anger over everything building in my veins. I was pissed that he caused so much emotion to build up inside of me. I don't even know what I was feeling. I wish that he would just leave me be so I could figure out why I my mind was so—so fucked up (well extra fucked up) in peace! "I was just being nice!"

"What have I done to make you believe that I wanted you to be nice to me? In fact I believe I've made it perfectly clear to you, and to everyone else, that I don't want to be even spoken to?!"

"I bloody get that! I think everyone get's that, Adder! Everyone gets that you're miserable. Forgive someone for trying to figure out why!"

We stood there for a moment, in an epic stand-off but still across the room from each other. It looked like we about to partake in a wizard's duel but no wands were drawn. The only thing that seemed to be firing across the room was words. Who does he think he is? I didn't ask him to care!

"What if I don't want anyone to figure out why? What if that's none of your damn business, Weasley! I can leave this school now and not leave an impression on a single one of you! Haven't I made the point clear? I want to leave here without _any_ friends. I don't make friends. I don't _want_ friends. So I'm going to tell you for the last time Weasley, leave me the hell alone! Oh and tell Kent I'm not coming to any practices. They're not my style. I'll see you all at the games—that's all you need to see of me. I'm sure it's more _any_ of you wanted to see of me!"

And I stormed out of the room, not actually running until I reached the end of the corridor. It's not surprising that I left with my mind foggier than which I came.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

What the hell just happened? I mean really, what just happened?! I spent the last couple days resigned to try and not want to murder Ryan, for the sake of the team. We needed a good dynamic and if I could semi-get along with Callen then Adder shouldn't be very difficult either. So when I finally _see_ her for the first time in what, a week, I finally have the chance to put my internal promise to action and I end up even angrier with her than ever before! I let a small frustrated grunt pass my lips as I jerkily kicked at the air. She was the single most frustrated human being I have _ever_ met.

"Fighting the invisible Nargles now?"

I froze mid-kick and pivoted on one leg to examine who was behind me. Roxy was standing awkwardly in the entryway—tugging at the ends of her (still purple) hair. I'm surprised she just didn't hex me when I wasn't paying attention. I got one when the prank first happened—but nothing since and I've been adamantly refusing distribution of the antidote.

"You've been hanging around Aunt Luna too often," I sighed, flopping backwards on one of the beds. "Still haven't figured out the hair?"

"Shut the hell up, you twat. I know you did it. Dominique said you were here with a pink arm, which you deserve by the way, and that you would have the solution. Now give it here. I'm sick of looking like some deranged flower," she snapped, wandering farther into the room. "What were you all worked over about anyways?"

"I, erm, got in a fight with someone," I coughed, digging into the pocket of my robes and tossing her the small spray-vial. She caught it in one palm and shifted awkwardly on her feet.

"Kelly?"

"No," I sighed, covering my face with my hands. Kelly—well she was, Kelly. And things were—they were great? I suppose? They were just—well they were there and they were going and that was it. I couldn't put my finger on it. I honestly couldn't. It wasn't going bad. It was just being and existing and I'm trying to figure out if that's good enough. It could be my flight radar going off. I'm quite like that with birds. "It was Ryan."

"Wood?"

"Yes—he just apparated here to have a fight with me and then went all the way back to the game he's currently training for. Even though you can't apparate in this castle because this whole thing makes sense," I deadpanned, staring at the ceiling.

"No need to be sarcastic, now. Weren't you spewing about the common room that you were going to get along with everyone for the sake of the team? Something about keeping the cup your last year here?"

"Yeah well that didn't go actually according to plan, did it?" I groaned. "She is the single most frustrating person on the face of the earth. More frustrating then you, you brat. And that's difficult to achieve believe me."

"Oh har, har," Roxy deadpanned, perching herself on a bed across from me. "Why don't you just ignore her? Or prank her? That seems to work when _I'm_ annoying you. I mean I wouldn't have bloody purple hair if that wasn't the case."

"Yeah—it's not exactly that simple Rox. I'm afraid that bird would actually castrate me if I attempted to prank her. And as for ignoring her—I just—I'm trying."

"Try harder, twit. And stop being such a female with your emotions, you're gross."

"Stop snogging that pathetic excuse for a boyfriend then?"

"Yeah—nice comeback. Change the subject," Roxy squeaked, when I sat up to raise an eyebrow at her she had a pink tinge across her cheeks.

"He good to you Rox?" I questioned quietly. Roxy looked down at her intertwined fingers and shrugged.

"It's a bit too soon to tell—eh? A week and a half in? I'll let you know though, yeah?"

"Please do. I've been waiting for the day I get to kick some blokes arse," I laughed.

"Right—that's so you're style, Fred. You'd probably charm their pants to their hips so they couldn't go to the loos," Roxy snorted, as she dug in her bag. "Anyways—Mum wrote. She added a postscript for you. Said if you don't write her soon she'll come down here and embarrass you at breakie."

"Yeah—okay. I'll send one off when I send the letter for Cameron and Ryan. And thanks for that pants idea—it's brill," I declared as she tossed me the letter and made her way out of the room. She held the vial over her head as she reach the doorway, shouting her thanks for it over her shoulder. I contemplated calling her back and giving her the real antidote—considering that the one I gave her would make her hair an uncontrollable afro upon contact but then decided I'd been too nice to her for the past four days. Instead I took the time to look around the empty Hospital Wing. It's rare for it to be so empty and for the matron to be out of the area. The spots on my arm were beginning to itch so I figured I'd better hang around until she returns, rather than go about my business with them intact.

I meandered about, opening side table draws in search for something to entertain myself with, when my eye caught sight of a lone bag on one of the beds. Furrowing my brow I made my way over, pulling open the drawstring to search for some identification. The bag seemed to be charmed with an Undetectable Extension Charm and was filled with everything under the sun. Changes of clothes, notepads, tins of rattling items that I could only assume was quills and ink. I shoved my arm down deeper and felt the recesses of hair brushes, lippys, nail polish bottles. Whoever owned this bag could probably live from the contents of this bag for a week, maybe more.

My fingers brushed upon a worn leather cover. Fisting it, I dragged it through the rest of the contents until it was free from the tangles. Oh—well the owner of the bag is now perfectly obvious. The book was bigger than a normal notebook and bound in soft brown leather, the covers tied together with a black satin ribbon. On the bottom edge a name was embossed in perfect cursive: _Addison Giselle Ryan_.

Huh—it's strange picturing that name with Adder. It was softer then her inherent personality. It was weird and foreign to her. I knew I shouldn't. I frankly wouldn't want someone looking through my marketing journal without my permission. But when Adder was actually in public, which wasn't often lately, she was rarely seen without this and one of those skinny black pencils in her hand. So I went against my better judgment and yanked the bow apart, letting the worn binding fall open in my lap.

The first image took me by complete surprise. At first glance I thought I was looking at a photograph but then I noticed all the sketch lines surrounding it. It was a drawn picture of a girl that I would think was about thirteen. She looked strikingly like Adder—but less angry. She was smiling, no laughing, with her head thrown back and hair messy in her eyes. Next to her was a withered house elf—a large mixing bowl in hand and a crooked smile on her face as well. It was captivating and rather magical.

Gently I flipped through the pages, being extra careful not to smudge the lines of her pictures. There were a lot of the house elf and the girl and some of a plump woman that reminded me of Grandmum. There were a few half finished ones of a woman. She was regal and rather posh with a steely look to her eyes. She looked scarily like an older version of Adder herself but the hair was sketched in as black as the pencil lines themselves. I almost dropped the book as I came to the next portion of pictures. First off it was Kaylie—her legs tucked under her bum and some of her hair falling out of her ponytail as she read. There were even a few different angles drawn. Then came a rather scarily accurate portrait of McGonagall in her formal best, from the Welcome Feast I'm assuming. I grinned, quickly turning the page to see what person would be next and really dropped the book.

Smiling up at me from the ground was a page filled with _me_. _Me _smiling up at _myself_ in a bunch of different portraits. Though each was a smile they were all different, in some way. All unique. I slid to the ground and cradled the sketchbook in my lap—tentatively turning to the next page. A full body sketch of me lounging over an arm chair in the common room. A profile of me in the Great Hall. It was ridiculous—the amount of _me_ in this book. Yeah as I went through there were others but most of the time there would be a new one of myself. I didn't know whether to feel flattered or creeped out, so I settled with confused.

Confused was a good adjective to describe my feelings now. It was almost like I was seeing a new side of Adder that she didn't want anyone to see. It was like I could see a bit of vulnerability she was trying not to show anyone. Her lines spoke of loneliness somehow. Like the only way she got to see these people were in her sketch book and not in real life. I don't know whether they made _me_ feel lonely or whether _she_ was really the lonely one. It was a side that I found myself _wanting_ to see more of.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?!"

I let out a gargled shriek and jumped up in complete alarm. Adder's face was bright red as she stood behind me with her jaw slightly open.

"Did you _look _through that?!" she shrieked her voice at an unnatural octave. "You looked through my sketch book?!"

"I didn't know your middle name was Giselle," I managed to get out. "Interesting middle name. Mine is Arthur in case you were wondering. After my Granddad."

"Nobody looks through that!" she exclaimed, completely ignoring my nonsensical rant about the origin of my middle name, stalking over and ripping it from my hands.

"I don't see why. They're brilliant, Adder. Really," I stuttered as she clutched the book to her chest. "You're really quite good."

"It doesn't matter whether or not they're good! You weren't supposed to see them! Nobody sees them! My art is private! It's the only place I can escape to and you've completely ruined it!"

"I'm sorry—really, I am," I stuttered, slightly frightened at her persona. This wasn't the hard Adder that I was used to. This Adder was slightly unhinged and growing quite hysterical at the thought of someone intruding into her world. She wasn't quite on the verge of tears—she was actually quite the opposite. The fury seemed to be rising up inside her, unable to release itself so it decided to make her go completely barmy. I took a tentative step towards her, testing the waters a bit. She seemed rooted in her spot—her book clutched to her chest and her eyes narrowed slightly at me. "There's a lot of—well there's a lot of me in there."

"There's a lot of things you weren't supposed to see! Merlin—can you be even more of a fucking pain in my side?! Why can't you just keep your nose out of my business," she exploded—taking a step closer to me and jabbing me sharply in the chest with the tip of her wand. When did she even draw that thing? She glared up at me, her ice blue eyes fairly sharp and inquisitive. I noticed now that she had probably the longest eyelashes I'd ever seen on any female—whatsoever. I didn't realize how unnatural and odd her constant scowls fit on her face. Her features were feminine and regal. She had sweeping cheekbones and the plumpest lips I've ever seen. It almost shocked that I forgot how striking she was in such a short amount of time. I spent so much time trying to despise her she had morphed in my mind.

"I would seriously consider stop looking at me like that if I were you. Most people don't come out for the better when they grin stupidly at me like that. I swear—you've taken one too many bludgers to the head if you can't realize that I'm more furious with your existence now then I've ever been in all the endless waking hours of knowing you!" she ranted, jabbing me in the chest at certain points of her speech. Her wand sparked, singeing my school jumper lightly.

I couldn't even respond. I don't know why I was set on mute. I don't know why her yelling at me now didn't gyrate my nerves like it would've done yesterday. It was like she had flipped a 180 and in my mind. It was like I was seeing her differently. She wasn't just this person hell-bent on making _everyone_ as miserable as she was. She was this person that didn't quite know how to manifest her misery.

Quickly and gently I grabbed her face in my hands, letting my fingers slide through her hair and my thumbs brush against her jaw before I blanketed my lips over hers. The feeling that stirred in my stomach almost hurt. But not as much as the curse she blasted me with that knocked me completely off my feet and into the wall behind us.

* * *

**A/A: Like I said—COMPLETELY WROTE ITSELF! I planned for part of it to happen, it was a main point I wanted to hit. Didn't know it would happen in this chapter but it did. And then the end happened and I kinda sat there wondering what the hell happened. Also I'm getting a bit iffy with Adder—she's starting her downhill climb for me. But I think that may be her spiral naturally as a character, I'm not sure. The explanations for why she's so utterly fucked up will come soon.**

**I swear—one Fanfiction that I wrote when I was like fifteen; I started the chapter thinking it won't go that specific route and at the end the main character ended up kidnapped. Yeah—things happen and I'm just as blown away as you guys are. So I think things will take route this way and I think I know what will happen now. More drama, for certain. I'm trying to add more humor in there—but I'm honestly like not funny. So when I try, I fail. But I'm going to try for you guys. I'll have more bromance to come with dear ol' Freddy and his BFF and possibly more romance (maybe not too soon) and some cool brotherly/sisterly/cousinly moments. So yeah—please, please, please tell me what you guys think!? Mostly so I don't have to be pathetically asking you guise every chapter. **

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	15. Chapter 14

**A/F: Now I've been trying to not to put forwards to my chapters so you can get right to the reading but a few things need to be addressed. **

**One—I haven't written in forever because, as you probably know, I have a job at Disneyland and the Holiday season just ended. So basically I was working five day work weeks at 24 hours plus, on top of family holiday merriment. So I've been swamped. But now that we're hitting off season—I'm lucky to get 17 hours a week. Not so lucky on my pocketbook but really lucky for y'all cause that means I have more time to write out what I have written in my handy dandy notebook. **

**Two—Some of y'all have been complaining on too much drama and not enough romance. I hate to be the bad guy here but this is labeled as both and when it comes to this story you're not going to get the large bulk of Adder/Fred action until the end. There will be small moments and some stuff between the mains and other characters but unfortunately you're going to have to deal with the drama because it's what their relationship kinda fuels itself off of. I can't compromise my characters and sadly Fred/Adder wouldn't just be romantic all of a sudden, especially Adder. Seriously, try to picture it. But I promise you—stick with them. They've both got to seriously figure things out before they can be a proper couple. That's how things roll with this story.**

**Right—I'm gonna get off my high horse now and stop screaming about my characters' integrity. I'm sorry if this angers some people and I know some (most) of you won't read this but at least I've said it. I will cherish those who stick with me until the end. I appreciate all of you anyways. **

**Forever Yours Magically,**

**Emily**

* * *

It's been approximately three days and around twelve hours since I've made stupidest mistake I've probably ever made in my whole life. I'm still trying to figure out what in the world compelled me to kiss her. I'm almost grateful she blasted me off of her, dislocated shoulder or not, because it knocked the sense back into me. I'm blaming that blasted rash from the Felix Felicis mix-up. It's supposed to be a potion to produce 'luck' and 'euphoria' and I obviously bunged it up royally. Yeah, that must be it. It has to be that. I mean what else could it be? It isn't that I have _feelings_ for her. I mean—that's obvious. That's just a ludicrous statement really—_feelings_ for _Adder Ryan_. Right—and I'm a unicorn.

"So, what time is Cameron getting here?"

Kelly's statement broke into my thought process with such force I almost fell backwards off of the Great Hall bench in utter surprise.

"Oops, sorry there. Didn't mean to interrupt such an important thought process."

"It's perfectly fine, love!" I exclaimed, almost manically grabbing her round the waist and pulling her down into my lap the best we could fit. I planted a hard kiss on her mouth only coming up for air when the giggles of the other students around us noted that we should probably refill our air supply.

"Well isn't that quite a 'Good Morning'—eh? Are you alright, Freddy? You've been rather—erm, affectionate the last couple of days?" Kelly questioned, putting the back of her hand to my forehead.

"What? Can't a bloke kiss his girl hello?" I questioned, rolling my head away out of her reach and wanting to squirm uncomfortably.

"Of course you can. Don't get huffy now," Kelly laughed, rolling her eyes slightly as she sharply pat me on the cheek. "Is Ryan coming out today as well?"

I froze. Did I tell her about writing Ryan? Does that mean she also knows about 'the kiss'? Oh Merlin—did Adder _tell _her about the kiss? Why am I freaking out? It was only one kiss, right? That doesn't constitute as cheating, right? I wouldn't know I've never actually been that type of guy. I couldn't _ever_ hurt Kel like that.

"You did say you were going to write him, yeah?"

Oh maybe I did mention that?

"Right—yeah he is coming. He said he would make it just in time for our evening practice session. I was going to meet him a bit before. Are you okay with me ditching you in Hogsmede a bit early?"

"Of course," Kelly replied, running her hands through my hair briefly. "Carrie has been on my case about our lack of 'girl time' lately. Though I don't know how fun that will be for me, exactly. Especially when she finds out that Ryan will be here and not see her. She may _say_ that she doesn't care but between you and me—she's slightly mad about him."

"I'll be sure to mention that to Ryan," I laughed, lifting her slightly so she could have a seat to herself and unfolding myself to a standing position. "But right now I've gotta go make sure Dominique doesn't go off and disappear on me. Would you be the best girlfriend a bloke could ask for and meet Cameron at the Three Broomsticks? Teddy is apparating him but he can't stay long and I have a feeling it's gonna take a bit to get Dom out of this damn castle."  
"Don't you dare repeat that to Ryan, Fred Weasley!" Kelly called after me as I made track towards the Ravenclaw table. I paused slightly as I came level with Adder, tucked inconspicuously into a corner at the end of our table. I haven't seen her at an actual mean in ages. She seemed to detect a presence because she turned her head slightly and we made eye contact. She looked like she was going to pull out her wand and hex me again but McGonagall cut her off by swiftly approaching the table. Adder swore under her breath and made to grab her bag and bolt.

"Stop right there, Miss Ryan. I want a word, if you please," McGonagall declared, making a few heads turn our way. I looked at the two of them, my only path out of the table, and glanced for a free spot around me.

I'd rather not be face to face with our dear headmistress at this moment and with her laser-gaze intent on Adder she didn't notice me. She was still after me about a prank that 'someone' pulled the day before last. Okay, so sticking all of the Slytherins things to the floor and desks during a lesson had my name all over it but she didn't have any definitive proof. Quickly I dove into a seat directly behind the two of them—squeezing uncomfortably between my cousin, Molly and a random Hufflepuff third year.

"Can I help you?" Molly sighed, not even lifting her eyes from her book.

"Can't I sit with my baby cousin?" I questioned, elbowing her and making her spoon slip. A bit of porridge spilled on the pages of her fairy-tale making her huff with annoyance.

"Don't you have like five other of those you can bother, Fred?" she questioned, blinking at me from behind her glasses.

"But you're my favorite, Molly dear," I laughed, glancing over my shoulder and ducking my head quickly. "Now shush—Ryan is about to get reprimanded and I don't want to miss that."

"Miss Ryan may I ask where in the world you have been for the past week or so?" McGonagall questioned sharply.

"You just asked me so the need for permission was irrelevant," Adder replied calmly. I could almost hear the steam whistle from Minnie dear's ears at that. I had to bite down on my lip to keep from laughing. If it wasn't said in such a tone—that would be a rather funny reply.

"Miss Ryan—you could do well without so much cheek," McGonagall snapped.

"But I kinda like the cheek," Adder shrugged.

"Why haven't you been at classes? Do we need faculty to start escorting you to classes again?"

"Classes aren't really my style, to tell you the truth. I have better things to do," she answered. I turned slightly at that. To be completely honest—while I haven't really spent enough class time with her to form a proper opinion, Muggle Studies wasn't the same without her. Sure she was a guppy amongst a room full of sharks—especially after the stunt with Paxton but it was the only class I heard her actively participate in. She kinda had interesting views on things.

"You are here for an education. Now expect a faculty member to gather you Monday morning. I'll see you in my office Monday evening so we can make sure your coursework gets done. I wish we didn't have to babysit you so, young lady."

There was the clack of heels and a loud slam on the table top before the sound of Adder getting up and hurrying out of the hall was evident. The room had hushed slightly and it was almost a full minute before the chatter picked up again.

"Fred—must we eavesdrop in a completely obvious manner?" Dominique sighed behind me. Molly and I turned, Molly barely acknowledging her before turning promptly back to her story.

"I didn't originally plan on eavesdrop. I just wanted McGonagall nice and busy before I slipped by her. She still hasn't given out punishment for the whole Permanent Sticking Charm Prank," I shrugged, twirling around so I could face her. I gave her a once over and sighed. What bloke wants to see his girlfriend for the first time in about a month wearing raggy sweats and a holey t-shirt? "Now come on—we've gotta go back to your commons."

"Why?" Dominique questioned, narrowing her eyes slightly. "I don't actually plan on leaving the castle today."

"Oh—wrong you are, Dom. We're going to Hogsmede."

"Why would I want to go to Hogsmede?" Dominique snorted as I jumped up and began to drag her towards the door. She dug her heels into the stone floor making my job rather difficult so with a put upon sigh I hefted her over my shoulder.

"Because I miss you—that's why," I declared, heading towards the staircase and jogging up the flight. I didn't put her struggling body back down until we were on a moving staircase and escape would mean free-falling down a few flights. "Now you're going to get dressed in something—erm—nicer than that and we're going to go to the Three Broomsticks to have ourselves a non-smuggled butterbeer?"

"If it's only you, why do I even have to change at all?" Dominique whined—leading the rest of the way up the winding staircases to the Head Commons. "I've got nobody to impress."

"Because _I_ don't want to be seen with you looking all grodie. Think of my reputation, Dom," I huffed, rounding the last set of stairs. No wonder the Heads were always trim. Their commons were about as high as the bloody astronomy tower. Dominique let out an insulted groan at my last comment and sent a jinx at me over her shoulder. My feet immediately tangled up sending me careening into the wall as we rounded the corner. I grunted as I slammed into the wall—sending an errant swear in the general direction of her laughter.

"Willow Walk," she exclaimed, once I finally untangled myself. The statue of the winged boar (not unlike the ones flanking the front gate) galloped to the side—leaving the archway empty for us to enter. Whenever I walk into the Heads Commons, I always curse myself for being such a trouble maker all these years. It would be worth it all just for the digs. The large and airy common room was decorated in a mix yellow, black, blue and silver (apparently it changes each year to accommodate the house of its current reign) with plenty of space to not fight over in front of the fireplace. The walls were covered in bookcases going all the way up to the enchanted ceiling (also alike the Great Hall) only breaking to fit a few desks snug inside the recesses. There were two spiraling staircases flanking a shared bathroom and leading up to two different doorways that held their rooms.

Hollis Fairwright, Head Boy, was lounging on one of the longer couches with some Hufflepuff fifth year that he's been dating on and off—mostly off so none of us have bothered to remember her name. He grinned when he saw us, giving me a genial smile.

"Wotcher Fred, are you actually dragging out little miss homebody out of the castle today?" he questioned, sending Dominique a jaunty wink. She merely flashed him an unwelcomed finger before dashing up her own stairs.

"I thought her muggle was coming in," his girl piped up, quelling under our glares slightly. I nudged Hollis' feet off the end of the couch and plopped down.

"He's not her pet, pet," Hollis sighed—tucking some hair behind her ear. I don't know how that boy puts up with her—honestly he's a saint.

"So is it not a secret anymore?" she questioned, wide eyed. Hollis and I blinked at her briefly before turning to one another.

"I told her I can't be seen with her when she looks that much like shit," I explained, ignoring the confused look the midget was sending my way.

"Did I tell _you_ that you're an arse, Fred?" Dominique chirped as she clambered down the stairs. She plopped down on the bottom rung to pull on her boots over her knitted tall socks and black leggings. "It does look like rain, yeah? I'm dressing warm just in case—I have a feeling you're going "

"I guess," Hollis shrugged, glancing briefly at the ceiling before diverting his gaze back to her. "You clean up nice, Weasley. Who knew."

"Oh knock that wolfish grin off your face, Fairwright, you knew plenty," Dominique snorted, pulling her Ravenclaw blue coat over her shoulders and doing up the toggles. She wrapped her black crochet scarf with daisies on it (it matched the crochet headband she wore over her ears to keep them warm) before holding out her arms and spinning slowly. "Do you approve now, you twat?"

"What do you think, Holl?" I questioned, putting my fingers up like I was framing a picture.

"I'd do her," Hollis shrugged, earning a squeak from his girlfriend and a pillow thrown at his head from Dominique.

"You're both ridiculous!" she snapped, storming towards the door. I looked between his girl, who looked distinctively angry, and the door before jumping up.

"I'll leave you to dig yourself out of that hole, mate. See you 'round," I declared, scampering after my cousin.

"Argh, Hollis gets on my right nerve," Dominique ranted as we hit the grounds, where a light rainfall had started. "He's an alright roommate but then he has moments where he comes on to me and I just want to punch him!"

"Dominique—he's doing it because he's known you for ages and _knows_ that it gets on your right nerve," I laughed, slinging an arm around her shoulder and following the small trickle of students that were left to head to the village.

"Still—" she groaned, banging her head on my shoulder. "Anyways—how're things with Kelly?"

"No need to divert your bitchiness," I sighed, giving her a sidelong look. She glared at me so I stiffened slightly. "It's good."

"Is that all I'm getting?" Dominique questioned lightly.

I gnawed on my lower lip and contemplated spilling to Dominique what happened—but then I chickened out. I still didn't even know if I was going to tell Ryan yet. I couldn't stand the looks they would all give me. Dominique would judge for me kissing Adder and Ryan would judge for me doing that to Kelly. It was a lose-lose situation to be frank. I was almost prepared to take this situation to my grave. But if that was the case I was going to need to talk to Adder and somehow convince her to keep her mouth shut. Merlin knows how bad that was going to go.

"You're buying the butterbeer for dragging me out—I hope you realize that," Dominique sighed as she yanked open the heavy door to the pub. There was a cheery jingle of the bell and a shout from the booth in the back. "Erm, Fred, there's some other bloke sitting with Kelly. Do you know him?"

"What?!" I exclaimed, mocking anger. She made it too easy for me. "Some bloke is moving in on my girl? Yeah—well he'll get a piece of _my_ wand!"

"Fred! Will you not be so—" Dominique groaned, chasing after me as I charged over.

"Oi! Mate! Don't you have your own girl?!" I exclaimed, grabbing Cameron's shoulder and spinning him around.

"Well I was getting kinda sick of the hot strawberry blonde babes and decided to try the full force blonde," he shrugged, his eyes twinkling. "To be honest—I think I prefer the first one. But she hasn't even said hello yet so that might not last long."

"Yeah, I don't know why you liked her in the first place. She's a crazy bird, that one," I laughed as Dominique choked on her reprimand. She made another sort of sound that resembled a wounded animal before shoving me out of the way and launching herself at him. Cameron stumbled back a bit as he caught her, opening his mouth to retort to me but failing as Dom completely attacked him with her lips.

"Hopefully she'll stop being such a horrid bitch to everyone and lay off a tad?" I questioned. Dominique pulled away for a moment and looked as if she was about to curse me for the insult but instead launched herself in _my _arms.

"Thanks Freddy," she breathed, pulling away to look me in the face. Her eyes were large and glassy as she awkwardly pat my cheek. It was still tough to get used to the affectionate Dom that Cameron always brought out.

"Yeah well, use this as incentive next time you want to give me detention for a prank I pull on you," I shrugged, handing her back. His arms immediately wrapped around her waist and the look he gave her made me stop and look for a second. It was so powerful. I looked briefly at Kelly who was beaming at me and felt my stomach flip. "We'll—erm, catch you guys later."

Kelly threaded her arm through mine as she led me towards the street again. She looked up at me with big eyes and I felt my stomach flip again. It wasn't as powerful as Cameron's but it was building there. It made guilt bubble in my veins. What was I doing to her? What was going to happen to our friendship when, I mean _if_, this doesn't work out?

"You really are a great guy, Fred. And the best boyfriend ever," she sighed, leaning her head on my forearm. "I had some trepidation picking this up. We both know your track record after all. But I'm beyond happy this is working out."

I forced a grin on my face and bent down to give her a soft peck on the top of her head. I'm happy too. This is great. This is well. Things are going good. I just need to keep repeating that to myself. This is great. This is well. Things are going good. I can't hurt, Kelly. She's one of my best mates. This is great. This is well. Things are good.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"So he kissed you dear, I've seen plenty of people doing that in the halls. It seems like a rather popular activity for children your age," Fey sighed as I sat cross legged in front of a blank canvas. It's the same position I've been in pretty much all day. I needed to escape after that little situation with the Headmistress but my inspiration was in the lacking department today. I knew the castle would be pretty much empty with most everyone at that stupid little village, but I couldn't bring myself to walk around.

"It wasn't just a _kiss_, Fey. It was a—well it was," I stopped and closed my eyes attempting to gather my thoughts. What the fuck did happen three days ago? One second I was completely shouting at him for looking at my sketch book and the next second he was kissing me! What kind of guy mistakes someone chewing them out as an invitation to mouth rape you?!

Okay—it wasn't much of a rape. It certainly was—if not good…it was pleasant? I don't know! I didn't want _him_ to kiss me but I wasn't the one to lie and say it was a bad kiss because let's face it, it wasn't bad. It was just as good as I remembered him being the few days before school started. It was quite amazing—but that's beside the point. The thing that was bothering me the most was the way he looked at me before the kiss. It was unnerving. It was scary. I've _never_ had _anyone_ look at me the way he did.

"In normal society we finish our sentences, Miss Ryan," Pritchard barked, breaking me from my revere.

"It wasn't just a kiss it was an invasion of my personal space," I finished, blowing a piece of my bangs out of my eyes. "Plus—he was all high on a Felix Felicis gone bad."

"Dear—no potion makes do something against your will. Say things yes—but that's always the truth. There is no potion to make someone do _anything_. The only thing that can force you against your will is the Imperius and I doubt that was cast on him," Corkrin piped up sagely.

"But things can make him delusional," I fought, narrowing my eyes in his direction. "He _must've_ been delusional if he thought I _wanted_ it."

"Now—dear, are you sure you didn't want it?" Fey questioned hesitantly. I gaped at her. Haven't I made my hate of everything here perfectly blatant?

"You know—it's you three's fault that I'm going soft!" I snapped, jumping up and grabbing my bag and broomstick. I needed air. I glanced out the window and noticed the sun softly setting. Evening practice would be starting in about an hour so I had time for a quick fly on my own before the rest of my 'team' flooded the field. Kent hadn't approached me about missing most practices this week so I'm assuming he's relenting to my terms. If not—his loss. But I'm flying for a bit anyways. "I'm going out to fly. I'll be back here whenever McGonagall lessens her leash on me."

"Dear—we don't mean to offend! We only want to help you because we've grown rather fond of you!" Fey shouted as I shut the door. I pressed my back against the wood of the door—feeling is slowly melt back into stone against my skin. When did everything get so complicated? My mind, my relationships? I came here with the sole purpose of befriend no one and keep my walls up and high. And now I'm (the closest definition I've come to in a long time) 'friends' with three animated portraits and my mind is a complete and utter swamp.

My mind usually burns with a fire that has one goal— to hate everything and anything. Hate my life. Hate my family. Hate my situations. Hate, hate, hate. It's burned in my blood for three years. It's the life that I've built for myself. It's the only personality that I know anymore. And with all this muck in my head lately—I'm slowly losing sight of myself and who I am. It's scaring me. I don't know who I'm supposed to be anymore without all the anger.

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to force out the pictures that were flashing through my head. A slammed door. An empty closet and chest of drawers. My little sister's large eyes looking up at me so confused. I felt my breath hitch in my chest but I pushed it down. Deep down. Even though I may be confused and losing touch with myself—I wasn't _that_ bad. I won't let the memories affect me.

So with purposeful strides I strode down to the main entrance, kicking off as soon as I hit a breath of fresh air. I let the wind take me away—blowing away my hair from my face and taking the sting away from my nose. But it didn't work. Nothing was working. Nothing was erasing the images and nothing was erasing his face from my mind. I wanted to scream. I wanted to curse. It all circled back to, Weasley, didn't it? It all circled back to this stupid, stupid boy that was the route of all my problems. I circled the astronomy tower on my broom and paused facing the pitch. There were two figures trailing in the sky—their figures black against the setting sun. A lone trail of light shot into the sky—exploding into a gigantic 'W'. There was only one person that I knew of that set off fucking fireworks like that.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"So, you're rather quiet tonight," Ryan shouted over the wind. I shot straight up into the sky so I could avoid his question. I should've Patronus Called him and told him not to come. I couldn't tell him and the fact that I was keeping something like this from him was making me uncomfortable. Ryan and I shared everything with each other. We've been friends since birth. Our parents were each other's Godparents. We talked about everything in an almost bird-like fashion. We don't keep secrets. "I'll take that as a no!"

"Carrie's going to be upset you didn't visit her today," I explained, halting in the sky and pulling a firework out of my pocket. I began tossing it in my palms as Ryan flew up to me—looking at me expectantly.

"Tactful change of subject," Ryan deadpanned, pressing his feet against the footholds and resting his hands on the back of her head.

"It'll work. So—got a broad in wherever you're stationed?" I questioned, lighting the firework with my wand and sending it shooting into the sky.

"Broad? Where are you living? The 1920's?" Ryan snorted, flying over so he could check me lightly. I shrugged and looked at him expectantly. "Look, Fred, Carrie's great and I think I might've loved her at one point. I know she's your girlfriend's best mate and all—but she was my school girl? You know? There are other birds out there. We _don't _have to stick with the ones we've gone to school with for years. There are lots of birds out there. Some we have never met, some we might've _just_ met."

I sat there and stared at him for a moment. Was he backhandedly telling me that if I didn't want to be with Kelly things would be alright? Did he read my mind or something? Wait—just met? Now he's really lost me. I was just about to question that specific train of thought when something tackled me from behind—sending me into a major tailspin. I was pretty much flung from my broom, only managing to stay on by clinging from one hand. When I got my bearings—there was Adder in front of me, madder than I've ever seen before.

"Bloody hell, woman! Are you trying to fucking kill me?!" I declared, attempting to pull myself back up to safety. Adder gave out a manic little laugh, shaking her head fiercely like she was trying to rid herself of a thought that shouldn't be there. I thought she had gone mad when I was discovered going through her sketch book—well I was wrong. Adder Ryan had most definitely gone off the deep end. And something inside of me twanged again, seeing her so upset. "Are you alright, love? You seem ill."

"No! Don't you dare! Don't you dare call me love, you idiotic prat! Don't call me anymore of those stupid pet names. Don't look at me like you did the other night! Don't talk to me! Just disappear! It's your fault I'm losing myself! It's your fault I'm losing touch of who I am! I was just about to pick myself up again and re-solidify my walls and you had to go and fucking kiss me!

"Why'd you do that!? What even compelled you to do that?! I didn't want it! I don't want you. I don't want anybody. All I want to do is be alone because when I'm alone I don't get hurt!"

I looked at her bewildered. Never have I heard her talk, okay yell, so much. Her chest was heaving and her hands were griping her broom handle for dear life. She stopped now and squeezed her eyes shut, her breathing slowed. The next time she spoke it was at a normal volume—I had to strain to hear her over the pounding of my own heart.

"So for the last time, I'm telling you to leave me alone. Don't look at me. Don't speak to me. Don't _kiss_ me. Don't do anything for me. Just leave me alone, Fred Weasley. I'm fire and face it if you don't leave me alone you're going to get burned. Please, just leave me alone."And she flew away, leaving me and Ryan gaping after her.

"So that's the reason you were quiet," he whistled. "When in the bloody hell did you _kiss_ her?!"

"Three days ago. I found her sketch book and it just showed this _side _to her. One second she was screaming at me and I was just standing there like a total wanker thinking to myself she really was kinda fit and then I fucking kissed her! But I think it was because of a Felix Felicis gone bad," I sighed, leaning forward to rest my head on the skinny broomstick handle.

"What the fuck does Felix Felicis have to do with the fact that you fancy the girl?" Ryan snorted. I whirled on him and choked on my words at the same time.

"I don't fancy her," I managed to get out, after I cleared my airway.

"You think she's fit and you kissed her," Ryan sighed holding up two fingers. "It kinda sounds like you fancy her, man."

"I don't know what came over me! Just forget about it! I'm trying to! I don't belong with her and I'm happy with my current relationship. One peck, not even snog, does not a cheater make. I feel bad about it and I plan on telling Kelly I kissed someone else while I was all doped up on that 'lucky potion'. But that is all it was. A kiss—the girl behind it has no attachment. If I'm lying I'll give up pranking. That's how serious I am."

"Okay—I get the seriousness behind your persistence. You don't fancy her, I believe you. No I agree—you didn't fuck her or anything so I think you're solid on that front. I don't know what exactly is going on in your mind when it comes to that new girl, but I'm going to believe that you don't fancy her. I just think that you shouldn't string Kel along when you don't necessarily feel strongly for her," Ryan sighed.

"I do feel strongly for Kelly," I replied softly. "I never want to hurt her. Honest, Ry, I'm just a bit mixed up right now is all. I can't hurt Pixie. I just can't. I can't lose her completely. I think she might be like really falling for me and if I break up with her I don't think we can keep the promise we started this relationship off with. That we would be mature and always remain friends."

"So what, Freddy? Are you just going to stay with her for the rest of your life? Marry someone when you can't return the same love they have for you? Have kids and live a fakely happy life?" Ryan questioned, his voice level.

"I don't know," I shrugged. "I don't think that it'll stretch that long to be honest. I have to figure things out. Who knows—maybe Pix will dump me for kissing another girl. I'll tell her eventually what happened, I just need time right now. I need to figure out a way to tell her without losing her completely."

"Oi! Wood—do want to fill in for Chaser during practice?" Kent questioned, speeding on over to us, and effectively ending the conversation. Ryan and I kept eye contact for a moment longer—unspoken words flowing between us.

"Didn't you just have trials? Don't you ruin my legacy now," Ryan questioned, breaking the unspoken semi-argument we were sharing. Kent went to go tell Ryan about _his_ problems with Adder—leaving me to my own thoughts. I pretty much have just eliminated all the doubts I was feeling through that conversation with Ryan. It was the lucky potion that did it and caused all the bad. I just need to never try to brew that again, or if I do, I need to stay away from Adder. Actually, I need to stay away from Adder, period, because that was one thing that was perfectly clear. Through all the fog that encased my thoughts on my current relationship—I knew one thing. Hanging around Adder Ryan wasn't going to help me get through it. Adder was right—we were no good for each other.

* * *

**A/A: I had a completely different A/A written—where I was essentially having an anxiety attack through a keyboard. But then I called my little sister, Kenzie and we had a two hour phone conversation where in, amongst other subjects, we basically plotted out how many more chapters we have and where my ideas are fitting for the rest of the story. So I'm really excited and don't know why I haven't utilized her amazing consulting skills before. She like **_**gets**_** what I'm trying to do with my characters and is always my biggest fan. I love you Kenzie. **

**XOXO,**

**Emily**


	16. Chapter 15

**A/F: I know, I know! I'm sooo sorry for the unexpected hiatus. I ended up joining a charity show through work and was completely preoccupied for ten weeks. But here I am again! Once I get through this chapter the next, and last, few will come very easy to me. This has been the most difficult chapter for me to write thus far because it's very much a bridge chapter with major character changes. We will see where it takes me. Ack.**

* * *

**Adder**

**First Week of October**

* * *

"So, Professor Wipple says you've been having some difficulty in your Defense Against the Dark Arts lesson this week."

I looked up from the blank piece of parchment in front of me and scowled. I don't like the idea of the teachers talking about me behind my back. Isn't it bad enough I've been forced to go to class and spend my evenings with the headmistress? I guess not, because they're bringing me up in private conversation. Why can't I just disappear?

Unable to properly release my emotion, I snorted a good amount of annoyance through my nostrils and flattened my lips into the tightest line possible. She may be forcing me to do my homework with her but that doesn't mean she's going to get a word out of me.

"I see," McGonagall sighed. I glanced up at her through my lashes and almost laughed. She had what could only be a similar look upon her face—like she was mere seconds from saying something she could only regret. Her fingertips were pressed together as she looked at me tawnily through her eyeglasses. "These hours will toll away rather long if you choose to treat them as such. I've put up with a week of your sullenness and I don't know how much longer I will tolerate."

Tolerate?! Like she doesn't have a choice in the matter? _She_ was the one that kept requiring me to join her. It wasn't like I wanted to be here by my own choice. I was being forced to join her.

"Then stop and just let me be!" I snapped before I could even stop myself. McGonagall's mouth turned up slightly as a few of the portraits gasped.

"This one is worse than both of the Weasley Twins put together. At least they weren't outright insubordinate. I don't know how you stand for her errant cheek Minerva. It shouldn't be simply accepted but punished," one of the men directly behind her deadpanned. He flicked a sheet of greasy black hair out of his eyes and frowned down his beak-like nose at me.

"Now, now Severus, you were doing so well with tolerance and patience this week," the sagely man next to him chuckled.

"It's rather rude talking about someone like they're not even here," I put in sharply.

"You're quite the one to talk young lady. I haven't heard a polite word pass your lips in the week that you've been up here," Severus shot back.

"Quit the bickering you two, it's getting us nowhere," McGonagall declared, interrupting me before I could cuss this portrait out. Usually I find them tolerable due to their beauty but this man must've been a terror in human form. "Now—as I was saying, Miss Ryan, Professor Wipple says you've been having trouble producing a patronus. That within the week of trying it most of the class has the shield state down, if not the corporeal."

"Patronus are a waste of time. Dementors are all but extinct. Why would I ever need to protect myself against one," I spat back, focusing only on the page of sketches my 'homework' was littered with. I was assigned an extra essay on the steps behind producing a patronus but instead I was sketching an array of animals that were slowly materializing in my DADA lessons.

"Knowledge shouldn't be determined by its use but rather its teachings," the older man replied, his blue eyes twinkling mischievously.

"Has anyone ever told you that Divination is overrated old man," I laughed, drawing my legs up so I was sitting cross-legged in the chair.

"Leave Professor Dumbledore be and concentrate on the conversation at hand, dear. So is that why you're not passing? Because you're not trying?" the Headmistress pushed on, ignoring all the side conversations around her. "Or because you can't? I do believe it's worth it, if you're simply not trying."

I squeezed my eyes shut and tried to block out everything around me. She had to know that her words were like knives to my already overtly full head. She had to realize she was taunting me. How inappropriate—that a person of so called 'power' taunts their pupils. She couldn't know the real truth. She couldn't know that I was ashamed. I've always been the top of a class—trying or not. Magic and lessons has always been easy for me, effortless even. Except this stupid and pointless lesson. Stupid patronuses.

With a groan I lashed out, throwing a bottle of ink to the floor. I heard it shatter with the tinkling of glass and the ink splatter up on my legs. It should've been satisfying—the destruction. But it wasn't. It just felt sticky and it probably stained my boots.

"It's alright to have fault in something, Miss Ryan. Failure isn't something to be ashamed of. It always leads to a sturdier path, especially when you finally succeed," she declared. Her voice wasn't even kind when she said it. It was prominent. Factual. Gyrating. Annoying. I tugged my fingers through my hair; reveling in the pain it caused my roots.

"Just _stop_ talking, will you?" I snapped, my eyes flying open. I immediately connected gazes with her—her eyes only flashing slightly when I yelled at her. My head hurt. I thought things would be easier now that Weasley is leaving me alone—but it's not. There's still this constant ache behind my eyes whenever he crossed my mind. It seems like my anger was only coming to a boiling point and wouldn't actually spill over and leave me relieved. It's making me sick.

"I'm not speaking anything but the truth, Miss Ryan. I'm only trying to show you that people can be helpful."

Like that's even true. That exact statement has _always_ been proven wrong in my book.

"Why does everyone keep saying that?! I don't want help!" I declared, gripping the arms of my chair as hard as I could. "Not from you, not from the portraits, not from Weasley! Not from anyone! I just want you all out of my head!"

McGonagall just blinked at me. I could almost hear the gears turning in her head. I don't think she realized that I knew she had ulterior motives to having me do my coursework with her nightly. I knew she wanted to 'get to know me'. To analyze me. To become my friend. I couldn't say why or what suddenly brought it on but I saw it. I saw it in her every small question. In her every x-ray look. It was annoying. It was intrusive and I wasn't standing for it. I wasn't going to let her in. It was rule number one when it came to my walls—never let _anyone _in. It only causes the mortar to crack further. How come when I got rid of one threat another arose?

"I believe we're done for the night, Miss Ryan. I'll see you after dinner tomorrow, shall I?" she questioned, smiling only slightly as she swept her wand in my direction. I flinched out of habit because lately wands equaled someone hexing me, but was surprised to feel the ink that was currently dripping down my leg vanish into thin air.

* * *

**Fred  
Second Week of October**

* * *

"You're a pain, Miss Ryan."

"And you're a bit unoriginal, Vector. Most of the teachers in this school have a moderate range of insults. Yours are a bit unimaginative really," Adder deadpanned. There was a small growl on Vectors part and a good amount of points taken from our house before the door to Muggle Studies swung open. The whole of the class that had gathered earlier made themselves blatantly busy as she stomped into the room and flicked her wand at a free cushion on the ground. It flew into her hand as she stalked towards the darkest corner she could get away with.

I felt a jerk just behind my belly button at the sight. Two whole weeks since our stand-off in the sky and things were just weird between us. We couldn't necessarily completely avoid each other, but it was almost like the other didn't exist. No words were exchanged. No insults. Just air. It was awkward and something felt missing. Shouldn't there be elation? Relief? Not just this odd empty feeling.

"You don't seem to be at each others' throats lately," Hollis commented lightly.

"And you seem to be without your titchy follower. Did the baby-puff finally grow a backbone and ditch you?" I laughed, ignoring his comment the best I could. I wanted to ignore the fact that it was difficult to stay away from Adder Ryan. It was the smartest thing to do, of course, but I didn't realize how much we actually bickered and bugged each other until we were completely ignoring each other. It wasn't like I could merely avoid her because she was being _forced_ to attend all our classes, therefore I saw her at least five times a day but I was making do with it. The verdict is still up as to whether our ignorance is doing any good. It's not solving the immense confusion I felt when it came to my relationship like I thought it would and she just seemed even more surly and anti-social then ever.

I thought as soon as she was out of the picture things would become more steady in my mind when it came to Kelly. Not that Adder, or any feelings to do with her, determined feelings for another girl but I figured that things would just be easier when I didn't have Ryan fogging up my mind.

"You seem to be rather professional at changing the subject lately, Freddy. Something to hide?" Parker snorted, keying in on the fact that I didn't actually answer Hollis' question. Hollis was too busy aiming a jinx at me for my comment to respond himself. I lazily deflected his half-hearted spell before turning back to Parker.

"Like I'm going to tell you any sort of anything, Finnigan. You and Dansey are bigger gossip-mongers then the first years," I snapped, getting annoyed with my old friend. Sometimes there were only so much good-natured feelings I could feel towards Parker, but she was used to people responding to her in such ways. She's relented to the fact, especially since she plans to work for _Witch Weekly_ and people will respond as such very often. She merely stuck her tongue out at me and skipped over to Dansey before plopping down on a spare cushion. The reaction was immediate. She yelped like a cat who'd been stepped on and jumped about two feet off the ground, spinning spastically in circles as she tried to look at her arse.

"What the bloody hell did I just sit on?!" she exclaimed, grabbing hold of the back hem of her skirt and holding it out to look at it. There was what looked like a very large, blue paint stain. Callen, who had just walked through the door, gave a low wolf-whistle as she flashed the room her satin and lace boy short knickers.

"If you wanted me to see those, Parks, my bed will welcome you," he snorted. She glared at him before stooping down and ripping the pillow off the floor. The small blue pyramid sat there in complete innocence, it's only sign of wrong was the slight waft of smoke trailing upwards.

"One—you're a pig Callen. Don't you have a girlfriend for that? And two—what the bloody hell is this, Fred?" she exclaimed, picking it up and chucking it at me. It was always funny when they knew it was me right off. The room was roaring with laughter but the laughter that I'd been holding sort of dissipated at Callen's comment. It was difficult knowing that the girl he was ignoring was my sister. I was trying to accept it—mostly to keep our playing on the Quidditch Pitch going well. But it was difficult and we seemed to really butt heads off the field. We were at the point of not really talking to each other when in the past we sort of had semi-check ins with each other frequently. Remembering that I just pulled a rather successful prank I forced out a genial laugh.

"It's a Stinging Pyramid—clever little things. Don't try to sit down there's after-shocks," I snorted. Parker let out a small groan and shifted uncomfortably on her feet.

"Why do you always test the new stuff on me?" she whined, patting uncomfortably at her skirt.

"Probably because you're a really easy target," Dansey shrugged, giggling slightly. I shrugged good-naturedly in agreement. Parker let out a small whine and kicked at her best mate as Professor Jangle skipped into the room.

"Shall we all take our seats now?" he suggested, looking merrily around the room. Parker whined again and stamped her foot. "Miss Finnegan? Is there a problem?" She gave me a side long glare before slamming down on her knees, her bum hovering a good foot in the air. I chuckled to myself as Jangle began his lecture on the uses of Muggle warfare, but slowly the giggles subsided and I found my eyes shifting to the corner Adder was shadowed in. Her arms were wrapped around her knees and her head leaned against the wall. She wasn't taking notes, as usual, but her attention was clearly on the lesson. Unlike that blank scowl she usually possessed in the rest of her lessons, she seemed fairly attentive. She stiffened slightly, like she sensed someone watching her, and her eyes slid in my direction. As our eyes met there seemed to be a current flow between us.

I was expecting her to glare back at me but she just stared wearily for a moment. It was like she forgot her disposition towards me and her feelings were empty. It was like we were, if for a moment, a clean slate. But then she recovered and suddenly thrust her hand in the air. Professor Jangle stuttered to a stop. Adder mostly saved her points in this subject for when she was called on and forced to speak. I don't think she ever voluntarily raised her hand.

"Yes Miss Ryan? Do you have a comment in regards to a Muggle's need for war?"

"I don't know why it's being classified as something different then a Wizard's need for war. Muggles are humans just like we are and we all have human nature. Sure—they handle things on a bigger degree because there are more of them. But hate is hate and power is power. People aren't just good and usually the bad overcomes it. Life is shit and it's always going to be like that. People don't have the ability just to be good to one another. I don't know why people think otherwise. People that are vastly different can't ever get along. It leads to war. It happens. Shit happens. So sometimes when someone says something—you better listen or it can lead to something worse," she stated—looking directly at me when she spoke her last sentence. The unease was almost palatable around the room. I'm sure _everyone_ saw this as a threat towards me. That I better watch my back or I'll be sorry—but I didn't buy it. There was something behind her voice. Something that stated that she didn't mean it threateningly, but in a defeat. It was the most contact we've had in about two weeks. Hell, it was the only contact we've had in two weeks. I thought that swearing off of her completely would make things less confusing between us. It would clear up why I couldn't just ignore her. But it only caused me more confusion.

* * *

**Adder**

**Second Week of October**

* * *

"Professor Jangle told me that you had some rather interesting views in your lesson yesterday," Professor McGonagall spoke up. Our nightly workings have been relatively quiet since the blow up last week. She's kept to her work and I've kept to mine. It just was. I looked up from my half-written essay. We may have not spoken but she has started to make me stay until I showed her my course work for the next day. The first night it happened I ended up sleeping in the chair for the duration of the night—just out of my stubbornness. My back the next day was far worse than any message I could send her so I just began to do the work. The faster I got it done the faster I was able to roam the halls on my own.

She was looking at me expectantly, the silence stretching between us. It was getting awkward so I shrugged.

"Is that what you believe? That people don't possess the ability to remain good?"

"It's not a matter of belief it's a matter of proof. No matter what, something is always going to go bad because people's bad tendencies outweigh the good. People suck," I answered levelly.

"Ah," McGonagall sighed, removing her glasses and cleaning them with a cloth. "I see your past has tainted your views on things."

"My past is none of your business," I snapped, feeling myself bristle with her mere words. I didn't realize that things have been shared with the people of this school.

"You don't think mistakes are forgivable?" she questioned.

"No," I answered firmly. "I don't."

"Not even your own or the ones of those you love?"

"No," I answered with a small sigh. "Not even then. Especially the ones I supposedly 'love'. They're supposed to be the ones that don't let you down. They're supposed to be the ones that aren't bad."

McGonagall and Dumbledore's portrait stared at me piercingly. She turned around and they both shared a look before she turned to me again.

"Miss Ryan—your opinions shouldn't be determined merely by the mistakes of the few. People, you'll learn to find are complex. Yes there's bad—like you say but I've come to learn in my many years that good always outweighs it."

"I think that's a naive view," I shot back fiercely. "You can't take your own limited experiences and contort them to an entire world."

"Miss Ryan, that is the most hypocritical statement you have ever uttered. You, yourself, are taking experiences and limiting them. The road goes both ways. Take it from someone that has survived and fought in two wars—both of which were ultimately defeated with love."

"This is all bullshit Professor. No matter what you say will change my faith in reality. All that love shit—it's a fairy tale. It doesn't exist!" I snapped, my voice rising slightly.

"You don't believe in love?" Professor Dumbledore questioned calmly. It was strange not having him comment until now. "Not that of your father? Your sister? Mrs. Stevens? Minnie?"

The small part of my brain that wasn't livid, questioned how they knew about all the members of my family, but I was too blinded to ask.

"Obviously their love doesn't mean anything special. If so why haven't they written? Where's the proof that they care?" I snapped, standing up so fast my school books tumbled to the floor and my chair flew backwards. "They may love me but it's not going to make them treat me any differently than any other person. Love may exist but it sure as fuck doesn't make any difference!"

The silence that permeated the room was intense and heavy. It weighed upon my chest and lungs making it difficult to breathe.

"Adder, dear, one day you'll wake up and this anger you're holding inside will seem pointless. I know it seems like it'll never come and that the fury you hold will only tear you up inside but it will. Believe it or not there are people around you that care," McGonagall sighed, looking at me with an unreadable expression. I opened my mouth to retort. To tell her that this philosophical '_I_ care so much' bullshit is getting her nowhere. It's not working and it's not going to lessen my walls. But she cut me off before I could even begin. "I know it's not what you want to hear, nor is it something you necessarily believe, but one day you'll realize that you're anger can be produced into so much more. Life is about lessons and I'm afraid you're going through the hardest of them. It may not be fair but it makes you who will become in life. It shapes you and all the good that's just waiting to get out. You're excused for the evening, Miss Ryan. Have a good night."

I looked down at the mess around me, pondering if I even had the energy to pick my things up. Instead I looked at the woman before me. I knew she was old—it was purely obvious, but with the way she ran the school she never seemed so. But right now as I looked at her—I saw it. She was tired. But here she was dealing with a girl who was so angry at the world she couldn't function socially anymore. And I couldn't figure out why she was even bothering? But I couldn't even deny the fact. I _was _angry. So instead of cussing her out, something I was seriously contemplating just because it was second nature, I gave her a curt nod and strode from the room.

* * *

**Fred**

**Third Week of October**

* * *

"And just this last touch," I declared, squeezing my broomstick tighter so I wouldn't go tumbling fifty feet towards the ground. "There all done!"

"Louis is going to kill you—you do realize that," James laughed, floating languidly beside me. "Pranking his Quidditch practice. You've gone mad."

"It's harmless," I grinned, palming the crumpled paper in my hand before flying back a few feet and chucking it at the middle hoop. It soared through the hoop and disappeared from sight. "Perfect."

"Where are you sending all the Quaffles that go through, anyways?" James questioned, flying around to the back side of the hoop and peering through it.

"His bed," I answered with a small laugh. "Now that that's done, I have plans with Kelly."

"Ah, Kelly," James declared, clicking his tongue slightly.

"What's that supposed to mean?" I questioned, pausing mid-dive to pull up and float level with my cousin.

"Well things between you two seems odd lately—I don't know Fred," James sighed, looping casually. I felt my muscles go rigid at his accusation. I thought I was playing things off rather well. We were having a good time. She was a great girlfriend. The best even. Beautiful, thoughtful, supportive. She was everything a bloke could ask for. I was happy. Of course I still hadn't told her about the kiss with Adder, but that was mainly because it was so small that I didn't think it worth hurting her over. I still was having nothing to do with Ryan so it wasn't even close to being an issue anymore. "They just seemed forced," James finished quietly.

"Well they're not," I stated simply. "Things are great. Perfect even."

"Well then I'm sorry I brought anything up, man. Dom and I were just talking about it is all," James shrugged, giving me a huge grin.

"Will you and Dominique just concentrate on your own relationships? Just because I'm with a girl longer than a couple of weeks doesn't make thinks awkward. It's just happening," I declared.

"Yeah—okay. I'm happy for you," James announced, holding his hands up in a defensive gesture. "I gotta go meet Kent and Kay at the library. Just you know, don't settle because it's Kelly. You can still be friends with her even if you two aren't dating anymore."

I watched him zoom back off towards the castle, leaving me gaping after him. When did James become the lecturer of the century? It's very unlike him. Just because he and Dominique are in a long term relationship they think they know everything about them. I rolled my eyes and took a path towards the lake. The wind nipped at my face and slipped around the sleeves and collar of my coat. It was getting colder as the month wore on and I could almost sense snow coming sooner than usual in the season. Lighting down under one of the Weeping Willow's a few yards away from the water's edge. Kelly was already wrapped up in the comforter from her bed, a steaming mug in her hand. She smiled when I plopped down beside her, grabbing the edge of the blanket and wrapping it around myself as well. She busied herself with pouring me some hot butterbeer from a canteen while I furiously rubbed my palms together.

"Did your—erm—task go off without a hitch?" she laughed, handing over the mug. I sipped it, letting the drink warm me from the inside out before setting down my mug and pulling her close to me from her waist.

"Yeah—Lou should be hunting me down by breakfast tomorrow morning," I laughed, nuzzling my nose into her neck. She squealed and squirmed a bit, trying to twist away.

"Merlin Fred, you're face is freezing," she giggled, her glasses raising a few inches as my jaw crept along the bridge of her nose. I stopped for a moment, letting our body heat warm up my face and deeply breathing in the scent that was Kelly. It was floral, like her shampoo and very in tune with me.

"Pix?" I questioned, not even raising my head to look at her.

"Yeah Freddy?" Kelly questioned with a small sigh. Her cheek rest on my forehead and I could feel my hair rustle as she turned her head slightly. I could feel the confession building in my chest. I wanted to be upfront with her. She was always there for me and always brutally honest—but I felt the words die in my throat as my conversation with James floated back to me.

"Do you think we're forced?" I questioned quietly. Kelly's head rose from top of mine allowing me to look down into her eyes. Her brow was crinkled softly behind the thin wire frames she wore.

"Why do you ask, love?"

"No particular reason," I mumbled, brushing some leaves out of her short hair. "But do you?"

"I think we're _us_. Isn't that all that matters?" she answered, smiling softly before reaching up and kissing me lightly. I kissed her back for a moment, holding her cheek softly in my hand and I knew that I cared for her. There was no way I couldn't. She's been a constant in my life since we were thirteen. I was aware that she didn't necessarily didn't answer my question; I just took her answer as something positive. So I won't tell her. Because I can't hurt her. And because like she said we were _us_, whether people thought we were forced or not.

* * *

"I'm sorry—it's not that we're talking behind your back it's just that we're worried about you. You just seem off, Fred," Dominique sighed when I confronted her about it later when I cornered her in the library to force her to come to the Owlery with me.

"I'm not off! I'm just the same! I've pulled my best pranks these last couple weeks," I argued, picking up a book from her table and balancing it on top of my head.

"Fred—just because you continue to pull pranks doesn't mean you're alright. Ever since that Hogsmede day you've been slightly different. We can't put our finger on it," Dominique shrugged. She examined me carefully before kicking at my shin. I jerked out of the way and the book slammed to the ground. Madame King looked over at us sharply so I gave her my most innocent smile. "Just figure it out. Whatever is going on, cognoscente or not, is boring me. Now go be useful and put away those books. I'm almost done and then we can go to the Owlery and mail your letter."

"Well aren't we snippy, now? Maybe I don't want your company after all." I laughed, hefting the books under my arm and heading towards some of the dustier shelves in the library. I don't know why Dom finds the most remote books to use. Stupid Ravenclaws.

"It's just—I don't know. It's been a month Tay. Do you think he means it?"

I froze mid step and quietly leaned down to listen to the conversation the next aisle over.

"Roxy—he hasn't been with a girl longer than a week like ever. Of course he means it," Taylor Keller, Roxy's dorm mate sighed. She was kind of a floozy in my opinion, I've heard stories from guys around the school but Taylor was Roxy's Gryffie confidant. I couldn't see her going to Molly for this because Molly was just so innocent.

"I don't know. I don't know if I'm ready," Roxy sighed.

"How long do you think he'll wait?" Taylor replied with a small snort. I almost dropped my books. What kind of friend pressures the other into something like this?

"Molly says that true love waits," Roxy announced quietly. It was rare to have a personality dwarf Roxy. Usually she was the strong one in the bunch.

"Molly is a baby Roxy. Why would you take advice of the sexual nature from her?"

"Hey now—don't go picking on Molly. I've told her it'll always be her over you. You can't beat our relationship," Roxy snapped. I wanted to cheer for Roxy standing up for Molly but Taylor's next words cut me off.

"Sorry. I didn't mean it like that. I'm just saying that _I've_ had the experience. Use it or lose it Rox," Taylor replied condescendingly. I really did snort then, cutting off their conversation. There were quick footsteps as I tried to arrange myself innocently—unfortunately there really wasn't any innocent way to be arranged. I was caught.

"Seriously, Fredrick!? You're eavesdropping on my conversations now," Roxy snapped, her eyes flashing.

"It's not like I followed you around for the intent purpose of eavesdropping Roxanne, it just happened. But don't listen to Taylor. Honestly—don't let Callen push you into something you're not ready for! You're better then that!" I announced, dropping the stack of books at my feet.

"You're just being overprotective! I told you what I do and with whom I do it is none of your business!" Roxy growled, her hand tightening around her wand.

"Roxy, I would be saying this to _any_ bird. It doesn't matter that you're my sister," I groaned, throwing a hand in the air.

"Yeah right Fred. You've been perfectly clear with your opinions on my relationship. You're such a prat! Just stay out of my life!" Roxy exclaimed, grabbing Taylors hand and stalking towards the library exit.

"Seriously Roxy!? A storm out?! GROW UP! If you act like this you certainly _are not_ ready!" I shouted after her.

"STOP YELLING IN MY LIBRARY!" Madam King roared from directly behind me. Something heavy clocked me in the shoulder, making me stumble forward a bit.

"Seriously?! Do you have to always attack people with books? That's abuse, that is!" I exclaimed, throwing an arm over my head as she drove me towards the hallway.

"GO TO YOUR COMMONS! THE LIBRARY IS NOW CLOSED!" She declared, slamming the doors definitely in my face. I sighed, rubbing my shoulder as I headed back towards the direction of the Gryffindor Common Room. When did things in my life become so complicated?

* * *

**Adder**

**Third Week of October**

* * *

"So are you saying you _actually_ enjoy the company of a living breathing human? May Merlin save us all!" Pritchard exclaimed when I explained to them why I've been MIA for the better part of a month. I rolled my eyes as I carefully cleaned my brushes with turpentine so I could begin my oil rendition of the lake. My past mediums were leaning in a line against the far wall—each one different and special in their own way. I paused briefly before grabbing my first tube of paint.

"I don't enjoy her company in the least. I'm just saying I respect her. She's tough is all," I relented, cringing at my own words. It's been a while since I openly complimented anyone. It felt foreign and wrong.

"My, my, my," Miss Fey crooned, wiping at her cheeks. "I'd never thought I'd see the day! The day you'd grow! I'm so proud of you, darling."

"Oh shit—don't get all disgusting on me now! I just said she's tolerable. That doesn't mean anything!" I snapped, tossing the pallet knife I was using to mix two colors into the can.

"She doth protest too much! It seems that Miss Ryan is settling into life here!" Corkrin exclaimed, clapping his chubby hands together.

"I swear to Merlin, if any of you make another comment about me fitting in I'll paint over your canvas in black," I threatened, pointing a brush in their direction.

"Alright, alright, calm down girl. We're just happy for you I suppose," Pritchard grunted, tugging at his ruffled collar.

"I told you to stop! I'm not happy here! All I said was that I respected someone! That's far from even liking them!" I groaned, as the two portraits grinned at me. I was about to send another colorful rant in their direction when something caught my eye. In the corner of the room something had materialized. What the fuck was a piano doing in here? Why would the room think I possibly need a _piano_? I looked over at my companions to question _them_ on the phenomenon but stopped when I noticed the looks on their faces.

"What the hell is going—"

My question was cut off by the door opening and someone slipping into the room. They backed in, a large black case on their back. When they turned around we both stood stunned for a moment, just staring at each other.

"Erm—what are you doing in here?" Dominique Weasley questioned, quickly swallowing the toast she had been chewing.

"What are _you_ doing here?" I shot back, stepping possessively to the side.

"This is my music room," Dominique replied, putting her case on the ground and crossing her arms over her chest.

"This is_ my_ studio!" I exclaimed, getting slightly (okay more than slightly) peeved that she was invading my space.

"It seems that you're not the only one that has discovered the secrets of the Room," Miss Fey declared with a bright smile. "Hullo Dominique, dear."

"You knew someone else had been coming here?!" I exclaimed, wheeling on them. "I thought you were my—"  
"Now, now, dear! You know we care for you as much as you care for us. But you simply didn't ask if someone else occupied the room while you weren't in it," Miss Fey sighed, looking at me with big eyes.

"There's no reason we can't share it," Dominique piped up. "I'll just stay over here and you over there. We don't even have to talk."

"What makes you think I want you here?" I snapped back.

"I don't really care if I want you here or not. This is the only place I have access to a piano and I'm using it. You can leave if you'd like but I'm sure as hell not," she announced hotly. I locked my jaw into place before looking behind me at the blank canvas and the readied pallet. I sure as hell wasn't giving it to her. So with a slight 'humph' I plopped back down with my back to her and began my work.

It was strange starting to share the space. For once it wasn't filled with my own work noises and idle conversation with the portraits it was shared with the tinkling of a piano.

"I didn't know you were that good of an artist," Dominique piped up over her music. I hefted a sigh and kept my eyes trained on the canvas.

"I thought you said we weren't going to talk," I declared.

"Won't you be nice, dear? This is quite an opportunity for you," Miss Fey announced from her frame.

"What'd I tell you, Fey? Don't take my threat to paint you over lightly," I grumbled. Dominique snorted softly in laughter, never ceasing in her playing.

"She means well, you know," she declared as Fey gave a small smile of thanks back to Dominique. "But honestly, Ryan, you're quite good."

"Weasley—I don't feel like talking," I sighed, biting down on my lip and carefully painting the vestiges of a tree. I was too tired to even be snippy. The room lapsed into silence again and for a long while there was only the sound of our work. It was kind of nice having a soundtrack to my painting and after my knees got tired I sat back and just listened. She wasn't flawless in playing but she was quite good. Her voice was even better—sometimes I would catch her quietly singing under her breath.

"You're—uh—not bad yourself," I found myself admitting. There was a soft gasp from the direction of the portraits. "Oh shut it you three. I don't want to hear a word from you!"  
"I don't think I've ever heard you say anything nice, Ryan," Dominique sang, her statement going with the notes she was playing. She blushed slightly and ceased playing for a moment. "Sorry—I get caught up."

We were silent for a bit, just looking at each other. It was weird. I wanted to be angry at her. To be rude—but in the almost two months that I've been here I've come to find she doesn't take shit from anyone. It was obvious in her refusal to leave the room earlier in the day.

"You sure are misunderstood, eh?" she questioned finally. I felt my eyes narrow.

"What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Who are you to judge me?" I snapped.

"Hey—I'm not judging. Let's just say I'm pretty honest. I'm not saying this to be mean-spirited I'm just stating a fact. You may put up this façade, this tough exterior but I can see that you're lonely and homesick. You just _really _don't want to be here. I don't see why anyone would. Being dragged from their home their last year of school to somewhere completely across the world—it must really be awful."

I blinked at her. Nobody has ever said that to me here. Nobody has tried to identify what I've been through. I don't know if I was disgusted that she was trying or relieved that someone got it. Even if they can't possibly relate, they're at least emphasizing with the situation. So I just scowled and shrugged.

"Can I ask you a question? It has nothing to do with why your here or even anything at home," she questioned, leaning back against the piano and surveying me.

"I have a feeling you're going to ask anyways, Weasley," I snapped. Her mouth curved up in a half smile and tossed her hair over her shoulder.

"Why'd you join the Quidditch team? You're not even going to practices. Why'd you accept the position?" she questioned levelly. I blinked. Well that question came from as far left field as possible.

"I fucking love the game," I admitted, slapping a hand over my mouth after it came out. I didn't mean to be so honest. I meant to give her a smart ass response on how I knew it would piss everyone off.

"You do realize they're going to kick you off the team? You haven't shown to practices and Kent was going to give you to today. Hell, they might even kick you off on principle if you show today," she declared. I gaped at her.

"But I'm the best chaser they've got."

"Oh aren't we modest," Dominique snorted. I ignored it and took the moment to look out the window to the pitch beyond the lake. Part of me wanted to screw it. Let them kick me off. Let them fail without me. But then I felt this ache in the back of my throat. I didn't want it. I wanted to play, even if that meant being a part of their stupid team. "It doesn't matter if you're the best option. That might fly with the Slytherin team but Gryffindors are all about team work. They want a solid team not just some great blokes all playing in one game."

"Well that's unfortunate. But I'm not going to grovel and beg for the position. Fuck that," I grunted, chipping at my nails.

"I'm not saying you have to grovel. That's ridiculous. I'm just saying—okay you might clock me for this but practice with me. Kent trusts me and if I tell him you're willing to be a team player he might appeal to you," she shrugged.

"Why are you being so nice to me?" I snapped, feeling the suspicion build. "I've been disgustingly mean to half your family."

"Because we just spent two and a half hours together where you didn't insult me once. Because maybe I can see that you're probably not as mean as you actually are. Or if you are—maybe I can just handle it. Maybe I'm just bored with this year? But here's the thing—you've got to continue to share the room insult free."

"That's stupid."

Why would I give her anything?

"So are you but you don't see me stating that fact," she shot back automatically.

"That was a comeback fit for a three year old," I snorted. Dominique shrugged and played a small scale on the piano.

"I think I hang out with Fred too much," she sighed. "He's obviously affecting my mental capacity."

I stiffened slightly at the mention of his name but didn't let whatever emotion that went with it rise to my face because Dominique was eyeing me critically. I didn't like that she was gauging my reaction to her saying Fred's name. It was unnerving and pissed me off. But then again, what didn't piss me off. This relationship (I refused to see it as a friendship. I don't make friendships. Friendships are bad. This is a business deal) was a bad idea. Very bad. But she was helping me get what I wanted. A semi-permanent spot on that team. As soon as her word solidifies my position I can do whatever I want.

"You've got a deal, Weasley."

* * *

**A/A: Ack. I don't know what to think about it. I really don't. I know it's been a long while since I updated the story. Let me know. I don't know if I like Adder's slight transformation. I have a really difficult time with major character changes. It's why my novel is on a standstill. The next chapter has been planned for a long time so it's going to be REALLY good. Love you all and again sorry for the delay in updates!**

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emily**


	17. Chapter 16

"You want us to _what_?"

"Have you gone mad?"

"I'd rather eat my trousers!"

"What the fuck kind of potion are you on?!"  
"It's gonna be your fault if we miss the feast tonight! Halloween has the best food!"

"WHO ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE WITH MY COUSIN?! I DECLARE THEE A BOGGART!"

"James, I think that one was a tad bit uncalled for," Dominique snorted, giving James a brief eye roll.

"Well everyone was shouting ridiculous things so I thought I'd shove my opinion right in there," James shrugged, making a sliding motion with his hands before elbowing Dom in the ribs. She swatted at him before turning back to the assembly of the Gryffindor Quidditch Team. We all stared at the two of them for a moment before the whole of us started to shout out at once again.

"SABOTEUR!" I bellowed, my voice rising above the hubbub. The team quieted for a moment to chuckle while Dominique gave me the death glares of death glares. I took her surprising silence to go on. "You are a saboteur, Dom. You are only suggesting this to us so Ravenclaw will win the cup!"

"You're ridiculous!" Dominique snapped as the team rumbled on.

"How could you?"

"What happened to your school spirit?!"

"I thought you were bigger than that, Dominique?!"

"OI! WILL YOU LOT SHUT IT?!" Kent exploded silencing us all effectively. "Ten laps around the lake. Go! The lot of you. And no cheaping out on me!"

"Shit! What got your knickers in a twist?" Callen groaned, unceremoniously chucking his broom to the ground.

"That's fifteen for you Parks! Now move!" Kent snapped, turning on us all. There was a low whistle from somewhere in the middle of the group that sounded distinctly like James, but none of us knew to argue up front with Kent when he was like this. He was a bloody good captain and we all knew it and took him seriously. There were a few more groans as we all peeled off excess gear before slowly one by one the team jogged off towards the Black Lake. I stuck behind a bit looking between Kent and Dominique. "That means you too Fred," Kent sighed, giving me a weary look. Dominique gave me a small smile and made a shooing motion with her hands.

"Freddy—just trust me on this, will you?" Dominique sighed, giving me a kinder smile then before.

"I don't get it! When did you start talking to Adder Ryan, let alone stand up for her?" I questioned, scuffing up the back of my hair and kicking at the ground. I didn't feel like yelling at her. Calling her a traitor. It was like the fight was sapped from me. I don't know what it was. Maybe it was the fact that all my personal relationships were spinning out of control? Maybe it was the fact that Adder Ryan was a completely different person now a days? That my little sister wasn't speaking to me? That I felt like the worlds' worst boyfriend? I was mostly just confused. So I just didn't wait for an answer but turned on my heel and took off after the team.

My head was jumbled. I was still pranking. I was still me. Sort of. When did life become so complicated? When did being a person become so complicated? Being a friend? Being a brother? Being an enemy? When did all the lines become blurred and smudged? When did finding the right way to handle a situation become so different from what I'd grown to know? When did _I_ become the one that had difficulties with social interactions? Those types of things usually came so easily. I was a people person to the core. I had to be to know my audiences, to know what sells. But here I was leaving conversations not knowing what happened exactly or where to go from there. Glances left me muddled, glares left me empty, smiles were no longer comforting coming from certain people. I was lost for lack of better words.

"Fred! Wait up!"

I stopped mid-stride and felt my breath hitch. I didn't realize how fast I'd been running until I stopped, well that and the gigantic stitch in my side was another indicator.

"What's with the speed, Nimbus 4000? You still have like eight laps to go," James grunted, bracing his hands on his knees and taking a few shuddering breaths.

"Didn't realize—just running," I gasped, attempting to get full words out. I planted my hands on my hips and leaned backwards, pulling at the cramp in my side. "What's wrong—with—running?"

"Right—like I haven't noticed," James snorted, slowly starting up again.

"Noticed what, man?" I questioned casually.

"How withdrawn you are," James replied just as casually.

"I'm not withdrawn."

"And I'm not freaking hilarious."  
"You're not if you think that was funny," I giggled, running side long into him. "Or if you think that underwear prank you pulled yesterday was funny."

"Stringing the first years' knickers in the great hall was quality work," James laughed, flicking some hair out of his eyes.

"It was armature at best," I declared.

"Now, you're skirting around the question! What's up with you lately?"

"I have no idea whatsoever. It just seems like talking to people is so difficult lately. Apparently I'm rubbish at everything," I blurted before I could even stop myself.

"You're not," James declared, stopping running.

"I sort of am. Rubbish brother; Roxy isn't even talking to me and when she looks at me it's like she can set me to stone. Rubbish enemy; my feud with Adder seems to be at a standstill and she seems to be well…empty. We're past what we were last month and I should be happy about that, right? But I'm just confused. Rubbish boyfriend," I groaned, not looking at James but watching my teammates slowly pass by.

"Okay we're going to ignore what probably should be addressed, you know the whole enemy thing, and take a different level on this—how in Merlin's Beard are you a bad boyfriend? You're a better bloody boyfriend then I am."

"Well that's not much to go off of. I'm surprised daily that Kaylie is still with you. Just forget it James. My own demons, yeah?" I stated, starting running again and putting on a burst of speed so I didn't have to talk anymore. It was becoming increasingly easier not to talk.

"GRYFFINDOR'S! BACK TO THE PITCH!" Kent's voice boomed over towards us. Everyone let out a large cheer and Dennis Creevey even went as far as to flop onto the ground and shout his praises.

"I. Hate. Running!" he declared, beating his fists on the ground. "I'm a Seeker, aren't I not supposed to be wired with muscle?"

"Come along titch," James laughed, hoisting Dennis to his feet. "Oi, lovebirds, I think Kent means now and not when your snog is over with."

I glanced behind me and instantly regretted it. Somehow between the ceasing of our laps and Kent's orders two seconds ago Roxy and Callen had become joined at the lips. James gave me a small shrug as I mimed hanging myself.

"I saw that Fredrick. I thought I made myself clear that you seriously need to grow up," Roxy snapped. I froze mid-noose and returned the acidic look she threw my way. As we leveled to the playing field I noticed that Kent and Dominique had gained one more to their party. Adder stood looking distinctly uncomfortable. She was looking specifically at her nails, picking at her cuticle.

"So—Dominique and Adder have stated her case. Since we've yet to agree upon a replacement for her I've decided to allow her to volley for her rights to stay on the team," Kent started. There was an almighty groan making Adder's brow furrow and her to gnaw even more ferociously at her nail. She looked up briefly and our eyes met.

To state it's been stiff between us is an understatement. We went from tolerating, to one side hatred, to mutual hatred, to…nothing. Absolutely nothing. Our eyes met, held, and wavered until I broke off to examine my broom handle. There was a gnawing within me, a pull almost, that made my gaze look fleetingly through my brow. Adder was no longer chewing on her cuticle but frowning at her finger as a thin trickle of blood flowed to her hand. She looked uncomfortable. Completely out of her element. There was a small pull in my chest. It wasn't even pity. I didn't even know what it was.

"Now shut your groans and hear her out. One, because she's a bloody good chaser and two, because we're Gryffindors! What about pride for our fellow Lions?!"

There was silence.

"Right oh, then. At least hear her out. Ryan, you have the floor. Or pitch. Or whatever," Kent sighed, waving his hand in her direction. Adder looked to the sky for what felt like a full minute. She let out a long breath and kept her gaze averted upwards as she spoke.

"Look—I get that I've been a bitch," she started. There was a small wave of giggles. Her gaze flashed towards us for a moment and for the second there was that anger back. That spark that was distinctly Adder. "Okay I am a bitch. Noted. Now we have a mutual fucking understanding. What I'm trying to say is that I belong—"

Dominique let out a small cough, cutting Adder mid-stride. Adder gritted her teeth together for a moment. It looked like she was having an internal struggle of mass proportions. I felt a smirk crawl onto my face and instantly her eyes flashed to me. It was refreshing seeing her back to herself, even if it was herself that annoyed me so much.

"I'm trying here! I don't need the condescending look from Weasley over there!" she snapped, her fists clenched at her sides.

"I'm not condescending! I'm entertained!" I shot back, smiling fully now.

"Good to know you find someone who's pouring her heart out entertaining!"

"I would hardly say you're pouring—"

"OI! Fred! Stands!" Kent declared, pulling out his wand and pointing it between us. It seemed that in the heat of the moment the two of us had taken several steps towards each other. I could really see her now—for the first time in about a month. Her eyelashes were still long as ever, her cheekbones sharp against her bronze skin, and her eyes sharp as ever. I didn't realize how much I've almost _missed_ fighting with her until I was toe to toe with her again.

"Why the heck am I being banished?" I questioned, looking at Kent bewilderedly.

"Because—well because you did start it, mate," Kent shrugged, jerking a thumb over his shoulder. Adder grinned triumphantly as I stalked towards the stands. I was just settling back on a bench when Dominique plopped next to me.

"I bet you're curious as to my actions," she questioned primly.

"That's one way of putting it," I shrugged, grabbing Dominique's knapsack and rummaging through it. I unearthed a packet of crisps and ripped it open with my teeth, shoving a few into my mouth before glancing at my cousin. She was eyeing me curiously, her head cocked to the side. "Well get on with it, then."

"It started like two weeks ago. It turns out we have something in common," Dominique shrugged. "She's not as wretched as you think, Freddy. She's just majorly misunderstood."

"So we're playing poor Adder Ryan, now?" I questioned, examining a crisp before nibbling on the edge.

"All I'm asking is for you to put yourself in her position. She's halfway across the globe. Her father has casted a shadow over her whole life. She's well aware that nobody is exactly fond of her. And she actually really does love Quidditch. This is completely out of character for her, to _ask_ for anything. Why can't you just give her a chance?"

"Because she's been _nothing_ but completely vile to me," I snorted.

"Fred—maybe that's just her walls," Dominique sighed. "I _know_ you see something different with her otherwise you wouldn't be so abrasive. Maybe that why you—never mind. Just think about it."

"When did you become so compassionate?" I questioned.

"I don't know, exactly. It's nauseating, isn't it?"

"Completely. But just because you are doesn't mean I'm all for this idiotic friendship and I sure as hell don't want her on my team," I announced, brushing the crisp crumbs off my hands and standing. "I'm assuming they're voting. I _know_ how the outcome is going to be so I'm going straight up to the Feast. They probably won't even need my vote and I won't let her failure temper tantrum ruin my appetite."

"Fred!" Dominique called after me. I turned around from halfway down the bleachers. Her hand was capped over her eyes so she could see me through the setting sun. "Just think it over. McGonagall told me it's her birthday today. I don't think anyone but us knows. Just think about how not a single owl dropped at her place at breakfast today. "

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

I can't believe my position on the Quidditch team hangs upon the verdict of Fred Weasley. I can't believe I actually even _asked_ to join again. It was closest thing to begging I've ever done and I didn't know exactly how disgusted I should be. I was even shocked it came down to it. Apparently showing some humility—gag—goes a long way with the Gryffindors. When Kent asked who was for it, three hesitant hands went up. James Potter, Kent himself, and the tiny Seeker. It wasn't surprising that Callen and Roxy were whole heartedly against it but essentially it was down to Fred's answer. And he wasn't even here. The prick.

"Right then—I guess we'll get Fred's vote tonight and call practice tomorrow. Go enjoy the feast you lot. It'll be starting in around an hour, yeah?"

The team dissipated then, heading collectively off towards the locker rooms and leaving me in the setting sun alone. I looked towards the sky, raising my hands up so I can examine my silhouette. I feel like I should feel different now that I'm seventeen, but I don't. I feel like the same old me. Well different lately—but still Adder.

Birthdays used to be a big thing when I was little. It was when the frilly party dresses and the ponies came out. It was what was expected for my family to have. It was expected. This morning was unexpected.

Looking up at the ceiling I don't know what I expected. Radish, my new owl, for one thing. But it wasn't there. And I can't quite place if it hurt or not. My feelings have been so jumbled these past couple weeks. Things have been radically changing for me and I don't know how to handle myself. I've been lost.

I don't develop friendships. That's for sure. Friendships were dangerous. Yet here I was with a possible four. I guess it doesn't count that three of them aren't actually living breathing humans. I suppose one is far more then I've had in up to five years. My mind froze for a second there. Has it really been five years of seclusion? Five years of alienating myself from the world. The though shook me more than it should. My worst fear was coming true. My emotions were putting cracks in my armor.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"She got nothing?"

"Not that I know of, at least according to Dom."

"It's her seventeenth?"

"Yup."

"And they're…_friends_?" Kelly questioned, wrinkling her nose mere word.

"Eh—I think they more tolerate each other. Which is bizarre on its own," I shrugged, digging through my Quidditch bag. Kelly flipped around in the arm chair so she was sitting in it properly. A thousand words seemed to be rushing through her head. "I know, I don't know what to think of it either. I feel like disgusted doesn't even begin to cover it. Bloody hell, they're not in here."

"What's not in there?" Kelly questioned, smirking slightly.

"My arm guards. I think I left them in the locker rooms. I'll be back in time for the feast," I groaned, getting to my feet and planting my hands on the arms of the chair. Kelly grinned up at me—a small half grin. It was almost a sad one—but I didn't have the mental capacity at the moment to decipher it. Kent had cornered me in the commons once everyone got back. After lecturing me for a good while about leaving before practice was officially called done, he told me Adder's fate was down to me. Me. A fifteen minutes ago I would've known in a heartbeat what my answer would be. But now—I couldn't say. I wanted to side with my original choice but Dominique's words stop me every time.

"I'll save you a seat then," Kelly replied, caressing one of my hands lightly.

"I'll be sure to try to find you, Pix," I sighed, bending down and giving her a light peck. We held it for a moment. Just lip touching lip. It was soft and _normal_. It was a kiss. Pulling away, we looked at each other for a moment before I backed away and made my way to the portrait hole.

The walk through the castle and across the grounds was far too short for my tastes. It made my thinking time next to none. It seemed that there was never enough time to sort through my brain recently.

The sniffling coming from the depths of the locker rooms was the first sign that something, other than my own mind, was off. Then there was a choked sound; the sound that humans make when they really need to cry loudly but were trying their hardest to hold it in but couldn't possibly do so.

Every muscle in my body tensed because I was a bloke and the need to escape tears was ingrained in me. But the cries sounded distinctly female and it had to be a girl I knew because most every girl that would be crying in the Quidditch locker rooms would probably be someone I know. And considering half of those options were my family, I knew I had to venture into the unknown and go in there. To be frank, I'd rather face a dragon. So stealing myself for the worst I peered around the bank of lockers. And the worst it was.

On a general note my sister does not cry. She is very much like Dominique in that stature. The idea of picture of her crying is as foreign to me as Adder Ryan shedding a tear. But there Roxy was fisting the edge of her jumper into her mouth to keep her wracking sobs inside of herself.

"Rox?"

She jumped almost a foot in the air and immediately began scrubbing at her eyes, but when she noticed it was me it was like her resolve broke and she collapsed within herself.

"Why couldn't it be anyone but you? You're the last person I want to see right now!" she wailed, covering her face with her hands.

"Well gee thanks," I scoffed, moving to sit next to her. I hesitated at that point. As a rule Roxy and I weren't necessarily affectionate with one another. When tried in the past it usually resulted in one smacking another. But for the first time in my life my tough as nails sister looked fragile. So I hesitantly wrapped my arms around her.

"Roxy, what's wrong?"

She fiercely shook her head and I could already feel her tears soak through my shirt. I began to make a mental checklist. She didn't seem physically injured and it couldn't have been family because I would've heard already. I was slightly ashamed that I couldn't place if she was doing well in school or friends because we've been so distant with each other. Which leaves one option.

"What'd he do?"

"Don't, please!" she gasped, clutching tighter to my shirt. "Please don't say I told you so!"

"Roxy, what'd he do to you?"

Roxy merely shook her head, all ability of speech lost to her tears. I couldn't put together how long we sat there, but slowly her tears gave way to hiccups. So without another word I hefted her in my arms and headed back towards the castle. I was only vaguely aware of the many stares I received in my path back to Gryffindor Tower but put no heed to them. No words were spoken until I had Roxanne in my bed. She immediately curled around herself, closing into the tightest ball she could.

"Roxy, you have to tell me what happened," I ordered, settling by her head.

"So you can go and fly off the handle?" She groaned.

"Can you blame me? Look at yourself."

"I'm overreacting," she answered quickly. Almost too quickly. The lying kind of quickly.

"I highly doubt you're overacting. You look like you ate one too many Sobbing Sours."

"Fred—" she started, peeking up at me through her arms.

"Please Rox, if not me then Dom? Or Molly? You can't just go bawling your head off like this and not tell anyone why. It's not healthy," I begged, pulling at her arm so I could look her face. Her hair was matted onto her cheeks from her tears, so gently I pulled it off from around her eyes.

"It's embarrassing," she whispered. "I don't want to see your face."

Giving her a flat look, I rolled off the bed and made my way purposefully to my trunk at the footboard. Roxy crawled over and peered over the top while I dug through.

"Aha! And Mum said I wouldn't need this," I grinned, shaking out the worn piece of fabric. Roxy sniffed loudly, running the fabric of her jumper under her nose. Carefully I placed the cap on my head and felt the tingle that stated it was working.

"Now you don't have to see my face," I crowed triumphantly. The Headless Hat was a late addition to my trunk but I knew it was going to be useful one of these days.

"That's ridiculous," Roxy squeaked.

"I'm always ridiculous and you're out of excuses," I declared. "Now speak."

She looked down at her hands, her fingers twisting together in knots in her lap. She looked as if she was having a huge internal battle. Finally she squeezed her eyes shut and took a huge breath.

"Well I showered in the lockers after practice and when I came out Cal was waiting for me. Naturally we started snogging," she started. Her cheeks flushed red when I let out a small unstoppable snort. Roxy looked up from her hands and scowled.

"It's bizarre talking to just your body."

"I can take the hat off?"

"No," she sighed. "Please don't. And _stop_ making noises."

I hefted a lofty sigh and motioned for her to continue. Roxy gave a firm nod and flopped backwards onto the bed.

"So he starts spouting off how hot it is when I play. How powerful I look. Then his hands go to my jeans."

I clenched my jaw, secretly happy that she couldn't see my face. Maybe I should've insisted that she talked to Dom about this. It's still my _baby sister_ after all. I really didn't need to know about her—erm—sexual habits.

"So I moved slightly so he would stop tugging at them. I mean who wants to shag in the Team Room? Even if I did I wouldn't want my first time to be there—"

"You mean you haven't!?" I exclaimed, yanking off the hat and giving her a bewildered look. "I assumed that after the whole library thing you would've by now…"

"No—we haven't. Now put the bloody hat back on," Roxy snapped, sitting up and narrowing her eyes at me. I gave her a small grin and slipped it back on, motioning, once again, for her to continue.

"Anyways—a bit later he starts to try again and when I wiggled away he went for my shirt," Roxy stated, her voice getting squeakier. "He was just getting rougher and more persistent with me. No matter how many times I moved his hand away another on was there to take its place. He was like the Giant Squid. So finally I pulled away from the kiss and pushed him back. Merlin, was he mad. I thought he was going to hit me, Fred." Roxy had lost her resolve again and silent tears were slipping down her face again as she spoke.

"Finally, after he took a few breaths, he asks me when the hell I was going to shag him. I told him I still wasn't ready. So he gets this queer look on his face and starts kissing me real hard. And then he was pinning my hands down and trying to get on top of me. He was so heavy, I didn't know what to do, so I bit him and then slapped him round the face," she gasped. She was really sobbing now and looked as if the words were getting caught in her throat, like she couldn't manage to say the next part of the story.

"He didn't rap—He didn't, did he? Please say he didn't."

My question came out difficultly. My mouth was as dry as sand and the words stuck in my throat. Roxy, unable to speak, shook her head no and I let out the breath I didn't know I was holding.

"No he stopped trying when I slapped him. But if I hadn't—hadn't been able to stop him—I'm pretty sure he…he just said that I was a child and he wasn't looking for someone that wasn't willing to satisfy his needs. He said he could find someone willing and far fitter then me.

"I thought he would wait. He told me I wasn't like the other girls. That he wouldn't pressure me and I was worth waiting for. But he lied, Freddy. Why'd he lie? I thought he loved me."

Roxy was clutching her stomach as she cried. As if folding within herself could make the pain go away. I wiped my face of all emotion before pulling the hat off and hesitantly wrapping my arms around her. The sun slowly fell lower in the sky and I could hear the thundering of boys heading out to the feast. But I wasn't concerned with eating anymore. All I could do was cradle my little sister and attempt to figure out how to make her whole again. I don't think I can, honestly. Eventually Roxy cried herself to near slumber.

"Promise you won't go make a scene," Roxy sighed, her eyes already shut.

"You know I can't make that promise, Rox," I sighed. She merely grunted as her breathing leveled out. I watched her for a moment. Her chest slowly rising and falling. I'd never imagined Roxanne the age she was. She always seemed older. Tougher. But in her sleep she looked truly fifteen.

And then it hit me, so fast that I almost don't know where it came from. What _Callen_ did to Roxy isn't much different then what _I'm_ doing, and did, to Kelly. How can I plausibly stay with someone to spare their feelings? To stay with them out of fear of losing them? It's not fair for her. It's not fair for me. It's not fair for anyone. It may not be to the same degree but it's just as manipulative as Callen. Not tonight—but tomorrow we needed to talk.

I couldn't talk to anyone today. I was too angry. I was too furious. How in the world was I going live with Callen for the rest of the year without smothering him with my pillow in the middle of the night? The only somewhat logical thing I could think of at the moment was to write Ryan, sooner rather than later. Well I had other ideas but most of them would get me expelled. Ryan would be able to calm me down and give a somewhat logical way to handle the situation because as of right now I'm nowhere near logical and am riding the rather _murderous_ track. It was a blessing Callen was at the feast—it gave me time to calm down and attempt to do as Roxy asked and not make a scene.

I eased myself out of bed and quickly lighted down through the empty common room. The feast was well underway and the corridors were empty. The wind was harsh and blowing fiercely through the glassless windows. It was going to be a cold winter and snow would probably come early. I was about half way to the Owlery, completely lost in thought, when I heard the giggle. Not really wanting to be social at the moment, I considered ducking into a secret passage way nearby but the next voice made me stop in my tracks. And before I knew it, I was running.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

I wasn't in the mood for food. My appetite seemed to be gone all day. The warm smell of pumpkin and things baking wasn't even enough to coax my stomach to rumble. Things weren't good for me right now. I wasn't myself. I wanted to blame Dominique and McGonagall. They were changing me. They were pulling me from the identity I glued myself to for so long. The identity I knew. The identity that was easy for me. But I was exhausted. I couldn't think of how to make them hate me enough to leave me alone. I was too spent.

I glanced down at my thumb. The skin was raw, red, and shiny where I peeled the cuticle away. I put a small amount of pressure on it, bursting the thin membrane and causing it to bleed again. The pain pulled me back to earlier on the pitch. It was so unlike me to ask someone for something. To put myself in that vulnerable position. I've avoided vulnerability for so long now that it was a part of me. And here I was changing the identity completely. Slowly and surely I was and I wasn't sure if I was happy about it. It pulled me even farther back. Back to the spark that ignited when I went head to head with Weasley.

It was the first encounter I've had with him in a month. I don't know why part of me woke up and sniffed the air at that. He'd been keeping his promise. He'd been staying away. It was odd to have someone keep their promise. It was odd for me to hate the fact that he was. Promises were always meant to be broken.

'Your sister will write, Addison.'

'I do these things because I love you.'

'She still does, and always will, love you.'

'She will still be around to see you, Addison.'

Broken promises were as good as lies to me, so why was I so happy he stepped over the boundary today? Why was it so fun to mince words with him? Why was he such a gravitational pull for me? Why could I sense when he was close? Why do my eyes find him in a crowded room? Why?

It infuriates me that I even succumb to that. I don't revolve around anyone. Yet here I was, feeling myself slip and join rotation. Could I be growing any softer? It truly scares me.

I stopped in my tracks as a large bang followed by a shout rang out from around the corner. The voice was one I knew, though it was never used in such a tone. I should keep walking. Take the opportunity of Dominique being at the feast to get the room to myself. But my feet had a mind of their own and propelled me towards the noise. I froze at the junction of walls, only allowing myself to glance around the corner.

Fred was angry. More angry then I've ever seen him, and I've seen him pretty angry. Our anger was mostly directed at each other, my own feelings blinding me to his facial expressions. But now I was watching it from the outside. He was bright red up to his ears and the way his eyes flashed made me feel distinctly uncomfortable. This look doesn't belong on _his_ face. Callen looked far too calm to be facing this.

"YOU ARE A BLOODY PIECE OF SHIT, CALLEN!" Fred exclaimed, his fist clenched at his side and wand pointed directly at his object's chest. He looked between Callen and the girl clinging to his hand. The door to the broom closet was broken in half on the floor. One could only assume that Fred had blasted his way in. "And you! Aren't you supposed to be Roxy's best mate, Taylor? What kind of mate goes and shags her friend's boyfriend just hours after he tried to rape her? Huh? Go! This is between me and him!" Taylor looked between Callen and Fred for a moment before hurrying off down the corridor.

"Rape? Yeah, that's logical. Your sister just has her wand in a knot because I hurt her feelings," Callen scoffed, straightening his messy shirt a bit.

"Hurt her _feelings_? Callen, holding down someone's hands and attempting to force yourself upon them is the definition of rape! That's my little sister!" Fred growled, taking a step closer to Callen. Callen immediately puffed out his chest a bit, his hand curling into fists and his wand raising to meet Fred's.

"Your sister isn't so little. She wanted me. _Everyone _wants me. Your sister is a full on cock-tease. She was asking for it, mate," Callen replied, his voice low and menacing. The look in Fred's eyes went wild and he snapped. His primal instincts had taken over leaving his wand forgotten on the floor. He certainly had the element of surprise, catching Callen round the middle and dragging him to the ground. He had a few solid punches in to his face before Callen got a hold of one of Fred's arms and twisted it so Fred toppled off of him. A punch to the temple here. A knee to the stomach there. One punch, two punches, three punches to the face. A sharp elbow to the head. Blows were exchanged at an alarming rate. And then suddenly it wasn't so even. Callen had Fred's arms firmly pinned with his knees and was punching him in the jaw. The temple. The nose. Fred's lip was split and blood covered his chin. While Fred was taller than Callen, Callen was bigger built and heavier then Fred. Weasley didn't have a chance of re-leveling the playing field.

"Tell your sister I've been cheating on her from the beginning," Callen growled, raising his fist back to give Fred one final blow to the head. Fred was hanging on to consciousness and one more hit would probably send him over.

"PROTEGO!"

The shield charm erected between them was so strong it blasted Callen backwards and into the stone wall. I looked down at my hand and my outstretched wand. There was a rumble below me. The feast had let out. My feet had a mind of their own again as I rushed over.

"Weasley, get the hell up. The rest of the school is coming," I hissed, falling down to my knees beside him.

"Ryan? Fuck—I must have a concussion? I'm gonna kill Callen. I'm not done with him," he groaned, turning his head and spitting out some blood.

"Probably on the concussion and I doubt you can even get a blow in right now—but come on. Get up," I growled, grabbing his arm and attempting to pull him to his feet. It was a slow process but I finally got him to his feet and into the closest classroom. "Are you insane!? Parks is like twice your weight! Did you forget you were a fucking wizard and could take him in a duel? Why'd you bring out the fists?"

Fred blinked at me, wiping the blood from his chin with the back of his hand. He shook his head a few times before looking at me again.

"You cast a shield charm."

I froze mid-conjure, the handkerchief that was halfway created dissipating into the air. Here I was, doing something my mind protested. Trying to help him some more.

"Yeah well, we're even. You carried me to the Hospital Wing and I prevented you from becoming fully unconscious. I don't like being in anyone's debt."

"Right," Fred stated, cocking his head to the side and examining me. "Even."

"He's knocked out. You can have another go at him later," I stated, pocketing my wand before I started to do anything else to help him.

"Right."

"Your nose is broken," I pointed out, breaking the thick silence that began to build between us.

"His is too," Fred answered, shrugging lightly.

"I'm going to go," I grimaced, turning to the door. "This doesn't change anything, Weasley. I still hate your fucking guts." I had just reached the handle when he spoke again.

"Happy Birthday Adder. I still hate you too."

I hurried out into the hallway before my feet could betray me again and turn around.

* * *

**A/A: OHHH! HOW'S THAT FOR AN UPDATE!? It's coming around! I know where I'm going! School's almost over! THAT'S MY APOLOGY! **

**I know I'm a horrible person who doesn't deserve to live but hopefully that chapter makes up for the long periods of time between updates. My life is taking a turn for the slow again and I should be able to finish this story by the start of summer. Please let me know what you all think. Let me know if this chapter is **_**too**_** out of character for Adder. I'm a little iffy with it all. It hit all the points I wanted but I'm not sure if I did it proper.**

**-Emily**


	18. Chapter 17

**A/F: I feel like this chapter should be posted with the opening montage to MGM movies. A grand statement that this story is gonna finish! I think it's because of this I haven't been able to move forward in _Pirouettes and Transfiguration_. But now. I actually know I'm going to finish it. I think it's going to be about four or five more chapters and then done. I'll be glad that I actually didn't abandon the story but sad to see Fred go. He's one of my faves. Anyways! Enjoy!**

**XOXO,**  
**Emmie Rose**

* * *

I couldn't handle anything right now. Not going back after Callen. Not breaking up with Kelly. Not checking on Roxy. And definitely not what happened between Adder and me. So I chose the best option. I avoided it all. As soon as the door closed on Adder's tail it was like my body went along on its own accord. Somehow-injuries and all-I made it to the library before it closed, without anyone exiting the feast noticing me, and most importantly without going back down the hall and kicking Callen's unconscious head in. I've been sitting in a remote book aisle ever since. It doesn't get checked by King and nobody could find me unless they were _really_ looking.

The library was the only place I could think about that nobody would come and look for me. I'm rarely here unless accompanied by someone like Kelly (mental shudder—do _not_ think about her yet; at least not with a probable concussion) or Dominique. I squinted at my watch in the dim light. The face swam before my vision, another indication that I most likely had a head injury, but it seemed to be just after eight am. It was no wonder I was hearing sounds for hours. Students were already in here finishing up work for classes tomorrow. I was dying to go to sleep. But I couldn't. I couldn't succumb to my sub-conscious where everything would be real and harsh and inescapable. I also couldn't sleep for fear of not waking up again. I hope I did equal amount of damage to Callen as he did to me. I luckily staunched the bleeding of my nose with some ripped out (and slightly moldy) pages of _A Magical History of Glasses_, but already couldn't see out of one eye, and was distinctly certain that on top of the concussion I had a few broken ribs.

When did I go from feeling off to utterly and completely lost with myself. I knew I couldn't keep dating Kelly because that would make me as bad as Callen but I also couldn't bring myself to end things with her. She wasn't like all the other bird's I've ended things with. She was my Pixie and ending things would hurt her. Enough people have been hurt in this mere two months of term for me to inflict any more. Maybe Ryan had a point. Maybe I will wind up with this girl for the rest of my life to protect her happiness. As much as I loved her, that left a bleak feeling in the pit of my stomach. Gently I edged myself against the shelves, allowing my head to fall back and my eyes to close. What have I gotten myself into? None of these problems directly involved me, well besides Kelly, yet I seemed to have taken all of the weight on my shoulders. A person like me shouldn't have to carry weight of heavy situations. I was the tension breaker. Not whatever the hell I was now.

"Fred!"

Bugger. They found me. Maybe this wasn't as good of a hiding place as I thought.

"We've been looking for you for hours! Merlin, you look awful! How the hell are you going to practice tonight?!"

"Really tactful, Kenneth. That has to be one of your shining moments!"

"Oi! Not to sound like an arse here, but shut the hell up. You're all blazingly loud and annoying," I snapped, opening my eyes and glaring at crowd in front of me. I suddenly felt very claustrophobic, yet it was only three people in front of me.

"We're annoying! You're the one that's left me with one Beater in a near coma state, down a Keeper, and the undecided vote of whether or not I'm down two players! Try that for annoying!" Kent nearly bellowed a manic look in his eyes that is usually reserved for when Ryan goes through his before game chats. "Can you at least let me know if Adder and you are playing? I need to know if I need to toss myself off the Astronomy Tower now or after my morning pumpkin juice. I can't be down three players. That's half a team. So are you playing? Are you even physically able to play?"

"Again, OI!" I bellowed. "One, you really need to sort out your priorities. Two, you really can't leave all these decisions to a guy that has a concussion, but it was a nice attempt at a brilliant plan. Three, I'd still be playing if I was half _dead_."

"You sure look half-dead," James weakly put in as he grabbed Kent round the neck and slapped a hand over his mouth. "Excuse him. He's channeling Ryan Wood at the moment and his tiny brain can't handle the intensity. Are you alright, mate?"

"I would be if you all just left me alone. Why do you think I'm hiding out in a musty corner of the library in the first place? I don't want to talk to anyone. I don't want to face anything." I grumbled, covering my face with my hands and hissing in pain as it jarred my ribs.

"Will you two gits just go to breakfast and let me handle this?" Dominique sighed, speaking surprisingly for the first time. She waved her wand in a circle and suddenly a bag of something materialized. She knelt down and pried my hand away before placing what turned out to be a bag of ice over my bad eye.

"How'd you find me?" I sighed, holding it myself so she could settle backwards.

"I know it's a struggle for you right now, but try to not be an absolute moron. You may be the most obnoxious but I'm the cleverest Weasley in this school," she snorted before turning and glaring at James and Kent. "Leave, now."

"But—but—but what about his answer?" Kent mumbled after he whacked James' hand away. "I need some sort of information. I'd rather only have to go replace one person today."

"Mate! I thought you were smarter than me! Not. The. Time," James groaned.

"Right, sorry. Frazzled," Kent groaned, giving me an apologetic look and turning to follow James out of the library.

"She plays."

Kent froze and whipped around. His face was a total mixture of fear and excitement.

"What?!"

"Don't question it. Just go," I snapped, groaning as I shifted a bit. I don't know what brought me to say it. Maybe it was because I knew the team was in horrid shape right now; both a Beater and Keeper in total disrepair. We were going to need her scoring ability. But then another niggling part of me was brought back to last night. Coming round to her face over mine. Her brow wrinkled in an expression I couldn't read. I don't know what I was thinking or feeling but I knew she had to play. I needed to say it.

"Right. Going. I'll inform her for you," Kent stuttered, practically running out towards the entrance to the library. It was a few minutes before Dominique spoke again.

"Roxy's alright," she stated calmly as she wretched her arms away from my body and began poking around with her wand. "Holding together surprisingly well considering the whole school knows.

"Ow! Dom! I'm not a pin-cushion," I groaned, weakly attempting to swat her away. "But thanks. I didn't get to check on her again. What do you mean the whole school knows?"

"Stuff it; I'm going to attempt to heal you. And don't be completely daft. People saw her bawling earlier as you carried her in. Then they find Callen unconscious. We're a nosy school. People put two and two together. They know you got in a fight. They just don't know exactly where you are. I heard a first year Hufflepuff cite that before he got knocked out Callen killed you and buried you in Hagrid's vegetable patch."

"Does he look as bad as—OUCH! You could've warned me!" I screamed, grabbing hold of my nose and moving it around tenderly. The she-witch snapped it back into place without any semblance of a warning.

"No—you would've moved and made me put your nose back crooked. And yes, Callen looks pretty beat up. You're gonna need to go to Fey for the concussion and your ribs. Tell her it was a bludger," Dom sighed, finally sitting back and looking at me. "Kent booted him off the team."  
"_What_?!"

"Oh Merlin! Did you really not catch on to his babbling about having to replace a bunch of people?! Are you really that stupid?"

"No, you bitch, just concussed!" I snapped back. Her annoyance faded as she looked at me with slight melancholy. I bowed my head in shame. I shouldn't have raised my voice like that. She's only trying to help me. Acting like anything but herself wouldn't make me feel any better than I did right now.

"We were all worried when you didn't go back to your Tower last night. Roxy was almost beside herself when Callen came back and you didn't. I don't think Kelly slept a wink," she mentioned quietly.

I winced. I wasn't prepared to talk anything other than semantics right now. I wasn't ready to think about how I had to sleep next to the arsehole that attacked my sister for the remainder of the year. I wasn't ready to come to terms with the fact that I had to end it with Kelly. The fact that she's losing sleep over me made it all the worse.

"I spoke to Hollis and he agreed that you can stay in our commons if you want. That way we can avoid having to deal with you smothering him in his sleep. James already moved your stuff there last night before we even started looking for you," Dominique added. "He also punched him again too. Practically all of Gryffindor is blackballing him according to Kaylie."

"You're doing an awful lot of talking. But I'll take you up on that offer," I sighed, finally looking up at her.

"I'm trying to fill in the dead space that you're leaving. Usually you're the one talking my effing ear off. It's weird," she replied with a slightly bitter laugh. "I know that you're upset at Callen right now. We're all angry at him. But wanting to not face anything doesn't really fit the bill. What else is going on? Will you please talk to me? Or Ryan? Or someone? You haven't been yourself and we're worried, Freddy."

"Are you actually being nurturing right now?" I snorted.

"As uncharacteristic as it is, one can only do so when one see's their family so beaten up. Shall we go to the Hospital Wing?" Dominique stated briskly. She stood and held out a hand for me to grasp. I wasn't going to talk to her about Kelly or Adder or whatever the hell my head is battling right now. But I _can_ take her unspoken support.

**Adder**

_Dear Father,_

_I know this is the first time I've written but it seems to be for a good reason. It seems that you have misplaced your day planner because my birthday came and went without a word from neither you nor Audrey. It was even my coming of age. I know you suck as a father but I expected at least one letter from you. I hate for what you've done. Where you've sent me. What you've made me put up with. But I know I suck too. I know everything sucks. Even this letter which is going to be a ball on the floor in Three-Two-_

"One," I muttered, balling up the piece of parchment and tossing it at my boots. "Sorry Radish, you don't get much use." I knew I wanted to just write two words to him and send that along. How simple could that be?

_Fuck you._

But then I think of Audrey and Mrs. Stevens if they open it. Yeah they're under some heat too. Didn't get anything from them. But I don't think I'm quite to the diminishing them to hell phase. I sighed and began to absentmindedly sketch along the edges of my next attempt. I had started with just a simple "Father". He doesn't even deserve a "Dear" tacked along with it. But as for the rest of the words, I'm at a loss.

"Oi! Ryan!"

My quill jerked across the page, ruining the tiny Quidditch match I was inking nicely into the margin. Well it _was_ inking nicely into the margin. Stupid Kent Scott ruining my focus.

"What the hell do you want, Scott?" I snapped, balling up the mostly blank piece of parchment and adding it to the pile at my feet.

"Building a mountain?" he questioned, motioning at just that. I merely glared at him. "Right, to the point then. So I spoke to Fred this morning."

I immediately felt my collar get hot. Immediately I flashed back to just hours before. I was still questioning to myself why I jumped to help him. Every time I tried to convince myself that it was for the exact reason I told him—to even the playing field—I saw him laying there on the stone getting the total shit beat out of him. I could feel my hand begin to shake. I almost missed his next words.

"Hold it, freeze. Now, repeat," I ordered, holding up my hand. Kent put up a large sigh and rolled his eyes.

"I said don't be late for practice tonight because we're not giving you another chance. Now I've got to go grovel to Darren Fahl and beg him to be our Keeper. So, five tonight. Not a minute later."

He voted _yes_?! He actually gave me a yes. Well fuck me. He must be more hurt then I thought.

"Wait!"

Kent froze mid-step to the boys dormitories and gave me an impatient look.

"Is he alright?" I barked. Oh shit. How would I know he's not alright? Wait, I'm a fucking idiot. Nobody knew where he was last night or what happened. But everyone assumes it was bad because of how Callen wound up coming back. Where are all my sly cunnings going? Why am I about to jump out of my freaking skin? "Because you know…the rumors," I managed to finally cough out. Kent groaned.

"He's an effing mess. Really great for me, huh? Not only did I have to alert you last notice but I also have to find a new Keeper since our old one is a right arse. But now I have to worry about his playing cause he's all black and blue."

Great, I got him on a rant. Just wonderful. He didn't look as messed up as he was describing. If he was _that_ bad, I don't think even my cold-hearted ass would leave him alone. What am I _thinking_?! Why do I even care! I mean it's all trivial bullshit. It's all petty love and drama. It's all I stay away from. More than for the reason of being the Queen Bitch here. _Why do I care_?! Merlin, Fred Weasley has got me _caring _now. I'm certain I couldn't hate him more.

"Save it. I'll be there," I snapped, interrupting Kent's rant about his first world Quidditch problems. He gaped at me for a second before nodding and hurrying back up the stairs. I need air. Quickly grabbing my bag, I slung it over my shoulder and left the common room. My mind and pulse felt like they were going a million miles a second. I was angry one second. Sympathetic the next. Worried in the blink of an eye. Murderous right after. I contemplated going to my studio but I didn't know if Dominique was there right now. Quickly checking my watch I deemed a bathroom the safest bet. It was right in the middle of breakfast hours and though it was a weekend most would be in their dormitories bathrooms.

Hurrying in I unceremoniously locked myself in the stall, not even bothering to check if anyone else was in here with me, and planted my face in my hands. I wasn't used to this. I wasn't prepared. I wasn't ready. I don't do any other emotion but anger. Yet here I was feeling fifty at the same time like some deranged pregnant chick. My walls, my armor, everything that I've built for five years were crumbling at my feet as I took each breath in and out and I don't know how to deal. I wanted to scream and throw everything I could touch. I was about to burst out of the stall and chuck everything at the bathroom mirror but the sound of the door was evident and I forced myself to stay put for just a moment. I didn't need witnesses…or additions to a body count.

"Oh my Merlin, did you guys hear about Callen Parks and Roxy Weasley?"

I straightened up, pulling my feet on the rim of the toilet so whoever was out there wouldn't know I was here. It didn't seem like the group cared who could've overheard because she just barreled on without a second thought.

"Didn't they break up last night?" a second voice questioned.

"Well yeah, but did you hear why?" the first replied. There was a consented murmur of negatives prompting the first girl to go on. "So I heard from Celine deVera from Ravenclaw that Roxy totally just flipped her broomstick at practice and started plummeting Callen with bludgers. For like no reason. And Callen, see he just breaks down. She totally called him a pussy and admitted she'd been cheating on him because he wasn't a man. What a slag, right? Who knew she was so off her rocker? And then she totally convinced her big brother to continue to beat on him. He got expelled of course. That's why nobody knew where he was for the past, like, twelve hours. The two of them are mental if you ask me."

Are you fucking kidding me? Before I could actually control my own actions, I was kicking open the door and facing down the four girls who were primping by the mirror.

"Do you even _know_ what happened? Or did you just decide to wake up, put your total bitch face one and make up a completely absurd story?" I snapped, bearing down on them. They were probably only a year younger than me but were exactly the type of girls I despised. Exactly the type of girls I mash up and eat for breakfast.

"_Excuse me_?!" The bitch questioned. She was clearly the leader of their little pack. This was the type of girl that's big brother comes after me for grinding into the ground.

"Oh sorry! That's right; you don't need to put on a bitch face because you already come with one. My bad."

"Who do you think you are? You're just that anti-social Yank that _everyone_ hates," she spat back.

"You say that like I fucking care. But you, you care. You _really_ care if people hate you. That's why you spinelessly go around lying and making up rumors to stay on top of the crowd. You're gutless and I should hex you right on the spot. But I'm not because I'm going to give you some _real_ words to spread around school," I snapped, stepping up to her. The girl took an involuntary step-backwards, winding up with her back against the sink. "Roxanne Weasley is a fucking victim of Callen Park's lack of balls. He got butt hurt that she had more morale then to sleep with him so she dumped him. He didn't take that too well because he's a total pussy. Look at that, you got one part of your story right! Then he got violent. See I'm the type of person that doesn't hide my violence, like shady fuckheads like Parks. He's the scum of the earth right under rumor-feeding twats like you," I growled, making myself more intimidating with each word. It felt good to have my armor on and all shiny. "I'm not afraid of hexing you. Remember what happened to Sage Saller? That'll look like first years' work when I'm done with you. Unless you leave now and tell _everyone_ you lied to the truth."

It was like a fire was lit under all their asses they ran so fast. Heh, double points for me. Whatever edge I seem to be losing will now be back. That girl will tell the real story and I'll be made out to be the one off her rocker. Perfect. Even if I don't feel like the Big Bitch at least I'll have everyone fooled.

**Fred**

"I can't believe she bought that," I half-laughed as Dominique and I exited the Hospital Wing and headed towards the Prefix Tower. I was in desperate need for a shower, change, and finally a nice long sleep. Madame Fey gave me a dreamless sleep potion. All I had to do was take a sip and have a few hours of worry free sleep.

"Oh she didn't buy it one bit. She's just so used to us all making up fake injuries that she heals and moves on," Dominique snorted, giving me a wry smile. "You gonna go see Roxy?"  
"Nope," I replied firmly. "Can't go to Gryffindor Tower yet or I'll do something I'll regret."

"Like you already haven't?" Dominique replied dryly. "Still don't know why you didn't use your wand."  
"When you're in a brawl wands have no meaning," I tisked, turning the last round of stairs and freezing. There's something I wasn't planning on dealing with for a good while. I already decided I was just gonna marry her. But a man does need space to think about his impending engagement, doesn't he?

"Erm, I'll just leave you two," Dominique sighed, noting the tension in the air as Kelly stood up from leaning against the wall by the door. There was awkward silence. I hate awkward silence.

"Don't worry, pet. Only broke one rib," I stated finally. I walked over to take her in my arms and give her a customary kiss but she held up a hand, stopping me in her tracks.

"We need to talk, Freddy," she sighed, looking conflicted behind her glasses. No way.

"Well those words are on the top of my 'Bugger Me' list. Right behind 'Fred we're taking away your broom'," I joked weakly.

"Please, don't joke for one second," Kelly begged, her eyes huge. I tried to look into them but she cast them downwards.

"Pixie, please," I begged. Yeah, I knew this wasn't working. But this was exactly what I was trying to avoid. Her face like that. My Pixie, hurt beyond recognition. "Whatever it is, we can fix it."

"No Fred, we can't!" She exclaimed finally looking at me. "I can _never_ fix you not feeling for me the same way I feel for you. I don't want to. Because if I try I take away the thing I love the most. My _real _Fred."

I froze. This was getting way too deep for me. I don't think I can stay above the surface.

"Pixie, I love you too," I finally got out.

"I know you do, but not in the same way as I love you. Fred, when we got into this I told you we'd be able to handle the inevitability as adults. We will handle this," she declared, steeling herself.

"I can't handle losing you," I admitted truthfully. "Ever."

"I can see now that that's the reason you stayed so long. That's not a reason to keep a relationship going, Fred."

"So what happens?!" I practically shouted. "We end this, you walk away, and things can never go back the way we were?"

"No, what happens is you give me a week," she stated firmly. "You give me a week to mourn this and be a right bird about it all. To cry. To be pathetic. To be all the things we mutually hate about my gender. And then after a week we will go back to loving each other in the way we were always supposed to. I can't go on taking advantage of you. I can't be like Callen was to your sister. You deserve to be happy and I know that you can't be happy with me when you clearly have feelings for someone else."

"You think I'm cheating on you?!" I exploded, lurching forward and holding her upper arms in my hands. "I would _never_."

"No, not that. Do you not see it?!" she declared, laughing a bit harshly. "Let's just say I heard a conversation in a bathroom today that made me realize some things. Things that Dominique has been trying to say for a long time. I just didn't want to listen. You'll get it on your own time. I truly do love you, Fred and this in no way will ruin anything. I promise you that. We're adults remember? And adults keep their pacts."

"I never wanted to hurt you, Pix," I admitted, engulfing her in a hug.

"Oh Freddy, you never could. This has been a happy two months, know that," she laughed, pulling away and quickly wiping under her eyes. "One week."

"One week," I echoed back. She gave me a brisk nod, allowed me to give her a soft kiss on the forehead, and then she was gone. Great, I can't sleep now.

Resigned to that I went off in the opposite direction, climbing slowly down the spiraling stairs. I couldn't get her words out of my head. Who could possibly have my heart like she claims so? There's never something she knows that I don't. Especially about myself. It frustrated me and saddened me all in one go. I wanted to run back and insist that I felt as strong for her as she apparently felt for me. But once again she had the more level head. She knew that keeping me tied to her would make _me_ unhappy. She was doing to me what I was trying to do for her. She'd rather risk her own happiness for mine. In my eyes Kelly could never be more then that sister to me, but it was obvious I loved her just as much. It was just in a different way. So why did I feel so guilty?

"Weasley! Watch it, idiot!"  
My head snapped up and a flood of heat rushed through me. Adder Ryan stood as I almost plowed right into her. It seems my demons were coming to haunt me today whether I wanted them to or now. Whatever God is out there this is one cruel trick to play on me today. I wasn't ready to face what happened last night. I wasn't ready to face the fact that she probably saved me from severe retardation. Madame Fey told me my concussion was bad. Bad enough that a certain blow could've sent me reeling into a coma. I wasn't ready to face why.

"Well you look less black and blue then Kent depicted. You actually look more like you just got dumped," Adder snorted, circling me casually.

"Madame Fey does wonders," I deadpanned, stepping to the side so she couldn't anymore. She looked so simple and so unlike herself just standing there looking at me neutrally. She was simply clad in jeans, her motorcycle boots, and a heavy jumper but she couldn't have looked more complete to the surroundings. When did that happen and where was I? "And you hit the nail on the head."

Why was I admitting this to _her_ of all people? Adder's jaw dropped slightly and she smirked. I felt something stir deep inside. This was more of her. This was the person I had grown to know. A deeply sadistic being. Not the neutral girl that stood before me seconds ago.

"No. Fucking. Way. _She_ broke up with _you_?! Merlin knows I didn't call that," she laughed. It made my blood boil. Why did everything feel so twisted when she treated me like she normally did?

"Look Ryan, it's been a right shit few days. I've just killed the heart of my best friend and I can't get your stupid fucking voice out of my head. So if you could kindly shut up on your own, I won't have to make you," I growled, making every move to push past her and continue on with my sorrid day. Before I could, she snatched out and grabbed my arm to halt me in my tracks.

"Make me?! Weasley, that's about as stupid of a statement as you going up against Callen and almost getting yourself killed. You're welcome for that by the way. You better be glad I had a score to settle with you or you'd be toast," she goaded, smirking devilshily. Was she trying to start a fight? Well two can play at this game.

"I'm warning you Ryan, shut it. Don't make me-"

"Make you what? Anything you do I can take! I've made record of that," she laughed, taking a step closer and looking up at me with defiant eyes. All of a sudden the heat that had been pooling in my stomach rose and took over me. I roughly grabbed her arms, pinned her against the wall and crushed my lips down on hers. I don't care if I get cursed like last time. I don't care. All I care about is physicality. I didn't want emotions. I wanted animalistic and raw; where things weren't confusing.

Much to my surprise the hex never came. Instead one hand fisted around my belt look, pulling me closer while the other wound around my neck, pinning my lips against hers. It wasn't like the club or when I kissed her in the Infirmary. This was hard. This was rough. This was my hands wound in her hair. This was lip bruising and teeth knocking snogging.

Slipping a hand under her arse I lifted her so she could wrap her legs around my waist, pushing us yet closer together. I could feel the blood pumping through my veins and pounding in my ears, which only intensified as she started to pepper my neck with kisses, grabbing lightly on my ear lobe with her teeth. I forced her to meld her lips to mine one more time before breaking apart. Adder and I quickly shot apart, our chests heaving and eyes wide with confusion and heat.

"You didn't curse me," I managed to growl out.

"My wand was in my back pocket," she managed to get out before her eyes steeled. All confusion was wiped away and what was left was her hard demeanor. "What the fuck was that?"

What the fuck _was_ that? That was intense. That was…I don't know exactly what that was. Eyeing her warily I gently stepped forward so she was pretty much pinned against the wall again. Testing the waters, I gathered her face in my hands and ran my thumbs over her chin. I could tell she was fighting to not close her eyes in pleasure and that made my stomach stir in the most indescribeable way. Carefully I blanketed my lips over hers in a quick but deep kiss. After I pulled away she roughly socked me in the arm.

"Again, what the fuck was that?! One more time and I'll hex you," she snapped, clearly trying to make herself hard and solid once more.

"Go ahead and ask me in a week," I shrugged, before stuffing my hands in my pockets and continuing on my way.


	19. Chapter 18

"So, I know we haven't had much practice time as a full team."

"Right jovial way to start a pre-game speech, mate," James snorted, looking up from where he was wrapping his wrists before pulling on his gloves. He held up the roll and gestured in my direction. Oh, he's offering it to me. I hesitantly took it, making sure to scowl in his direction as well. Couldn't show _too_ much commodity. Kent threw a half deflated Quaffle at James' head before taking a deep breath.

"As I was saying we haven't had much time to practice as a full team but I believe in our pieces. We've got the best beaters in the school and a seeker that can spot a snitch a mile away. James and I are great but Ryan here is our wildcard. And Darren, you're a fantastic Keeper when you don't think about anything else but the game. I know we can win this. We just have to believe in how hard we've been training these past few days. What do you say, Lions?! Can we win this?!"

Silence. Poor Kent looked like he was going to pass out. But he steeled himself and glared at us all.

"I CAN'T HEAR YOU, GRYFFINDORS!"

That raised some stamina in the rest of the team and they gave a half-hearted roar of agreement. I don't think any of us, but myself of course, was that confident in their skills at the moment. All the changing around has introduced the team to a deathbed. I knew I could carry myself but Dominique said these guys were all about teamwork and I wasn't sure that we were very 'team-like' at the moment. Roxy was still slightly traumatized. Our new Keeper was sub-par at best. Fred, well I was trying to avoid thinking of that. Every time I did I was transported back to that hallway. The feel of the rough wall on my back and his lips crashing down on mine.

I've figured it out though. I've figured out why I succumbed to it. It was simple really. It was exactly like when I ripped those girls a new asshole in the bathroom. He was weak and when that happened I was using him. The fact that I was using anyone brought back my walls. It made me feel more like me again and less like a vulnerable target without any protection. It still bugged me that the ball was in his court though.

He told me to ask in a week, like I was actually going to, but he certainly has kept to that. I don't know if people have seen much of him. He has seemed to disappear. Coming out of the Head's Quarters only for class, a quick few meals, and our rigorous Quidditch schedule. Unfortunately that meant I see him a lot more than everyone else seems to, but it's not like we've spoken. But he does _look _at me. It's unnerving. Sometimes we will make eye-contact and he'd look at me with such burning eyes that sometimes I couldn't even reciprocate with a glare. As much as I hated his guts, fuck, he was a good kisser.

"Alright guys, it's time. I believe in you. Hufflepuff doesn't stand a chance," Kent declared as the horn blared out on the pitch. You could hear the whole school gathered. It was odd. As much as I loved the game I've never played in front of this many people. Rowlings' student body was a fraction of Hogwarts'. The mere thought of parading out there and showing off my ultra-superior skills made my stomach turn in both excitement and a bit of fear. If I blow it I've never blown it in front of all these people. I've got to score a lot to save us if we don't catch the snitch. I've got to shine and I've got to actually be in the spotlight. I don't do spotlight unless I've come up with some actual plan to entice the audience to hate me. This is all about them liking me and causing their team to win. It was bizarre.

And as a team (I know, me on a team is a major problem on its own) we filed onto the field where our opponents in yellow and black stood. I recognized two red heads that _had_ to be Weasley in the pact as well as Fairwright and another dude in my grade. Hufflepuff was the weak house, right? So this can be solved by intimidation, right? I stared down the bespectacled red-head that I've often seen buried in fairy-tales. Normally I _know_ I could scare this chick shitless but she only steeled herself more, her eyes narrowing behind the lenses.

"Don't take Molly's off pitch persona to heart. In the sky she's just as boisterous as her sister Lucy or even Roxy. She'll play rough in order to score."

"So you're speaking?" I hissed, not turning back to look at Fred.

"Shut the hell up. Are you going to be a team player today?"

"I take offense to that," I snapped as we all mounted our brooms. The ref gave a sharp blast of her whistle followed by the roar of the crowd. "Don't you know I'm nothing but a team player," I shouted into the wind as I gave a hard and sharp kick off.

With the start of the game, Fred couldn't give me any sort of response, which was exactly to my liking. My eye trained on the Quaffle, thrown high into the air by the ref. Molly Weasley immediately swooped in to grab it, chased closely by James. I let her take it, bearing down on my foot holds and flying directly down towards our own goal. Their chasers were passing with the best, throwing at the last possible second so James and Kent couldn't get a grasp on the Quaffle. I looked up above me where Roxy and Fred were chasing after bludgers. Giving a slight nod, Roxy shot a powerful one at the peak of their triangle. I took this opportunity to follow the path of the bludger, flying straight into the bloodshed and wrenching the Quaffle from one of their other chaser's hands. The bludger got me in the shoulder in the process but I ignored the pain and rocketed down the pitch. I felt the air shift as my opponent shot the other bludger in my direction, so I guided my broom to sweep right under it.

I knew I could just go shoot and score against Fairwright on my own but I could feel James and Kent right behind me. That could work. I hit the brakes, flinging to a stop. James and Kent passed me and with a hard throw, James caught the ball shooting a split second after.

_Potter scores! Ten points to Gryffindor. That's a rather new technique by the new Chaser, Ryan. But it seems effective._

Bearing down on my feet again I rocketed in the sky to sit up and watch the game for a second. James and Kent were quickly passing the ball between them trying to level up on the opponent's side of the field.

"Get in the game, Ryan!" Fred bellowed, flashing past so he could whack a bludger at one of the chasers that threatened possession.

"Just fucking trust me, Weasley! I know what I'm doing!" I snapped back as he doubled around to fly towards the second bludger. I could've sworn he shouted 'team player' again but the wind was beginning to pick up again. I looked up at the clouds. It was going to start fucking raining again. That's all it ever does here. As soon as I thought it, it started. It wasn't even rain—it was sleet. I glanced down at the game again. In my vantage point I watched the Puffs make an easy score.

_Ten points to Hufflepuff. I don't know what the third Gryffie chaser is thinking but her teammates sure could use her help. _

Please, Kaylie, just shut the fuck up. I get your not so subtle message. Flying straight up, I did a hairpin turn and powered straight down into the mass of passing. It seemed to startle them all, even James and Kent, but it worked. The Puff chaser dropped the Quaffle, allowing me to grab it and speed down the field. I quickly zipped around two bludgers and wound up. Score.

_Thank you, Ryan. Finally you start actually playing. Maybe try passing some more as well, eh? Oi! Sorry! Couldn't help that one, Professor Longbottom. That's ten points to Gryffindor folks. The score stands 20-10 to the Lions. _

As the sleet thickened the playing got rougher. After getting an ear beating from Kent while we flew, I attempted to be more a 'team fucking player'. I aided James and Kent in a rough game. The conditions were getting worse and I knew the seekers were going to have a hard time spotting the snitch in this haze. I had to up the score. If the Puff's caught the snitch now we'd lose, and much to my horror they were already ahead. Screw team playing. It's my time. I took off like a bat out of hell, easily intercepting the Quaffle from the opponents and lopping in a score. I did this again and again. I wasn't passing but I _was_ scoring. I was making it impossible for them to win even if they did catch the snitch. It was my _job._

_Well that was something, folks. We're all tied up. Score stands at 150-150. The game is going to be a close one. It's all up to Gryffindor's Derrick Creevey and Hufflepuff's Lucy Weasley to seal up this match._

Like hell it is. I paused for a moment to survey. Out of the corner of my eye I saw two blurs hurtling forward. Shit they sighted it. It's now or never. My score wasn't going to mean much if they caught it but if I just get one more goal it'll make up for the fact that I let them get ahead to begin with. The Puff's had the ball and I had a plan. I needed to get possession and this was the perfect way. It was stupid and reckless but it'll work. And my name in Quidditch pairs with 'stupid and reckless' perfectly. Speeding ahead I positioned myself right under Molly Weasley's broom. Carefully I released my hands from the broomstick and raised one foot to the handle then the other.

_What the hell are you doing, Ryan?! Sorry, Professor! Ryan seems to be surfing her broom. In this weather it DOESN'T SEEM LIKE A VERY SMART IDEA. _

Who said I was smart? I could feel the broom wobble and there wasn't much space for me to stand on the thin handle. But I had gained just enough balance to launch myself upwards and grab a hold of Molly's broom. She looked down in shock before lashing out a foot at my hand.

"Let go!"

I could feel myself getting top heavy by just the jolt of her foot but I had a good grip. My broom though, started to plummet. It was only by my feet latching to the handle did it not fall. I was now being supported in the air merely by my grip on Molly's broom. I gave another big pull and that did it. Weasley dropped the Quaffle. Letting go of her broom I free-fell into the murky sky, following the ball and grabbing it tight. I was falling fast. I could hear the crowd scream in horror. I had to get my broom under myself because the ground was coming up fast. In the moment time slowed. I was able to make sure I had a grip on the Quaffle, make sure my broom was level to fall on, and see that the seekers were still streaking after an elusive and flighty snitch. I still had a chance. Ten feet from the ground I was able to right my broom and hold on tight. I ignored the pounding of my heart and streaked towards the goal. Fairwright looked resigned to block me but I wound up regardless, making sure he thought I was aiming for the left hoop. Just as I made the shot for the right, the bludger hit me square in the middle of the back.

I tail spun and it was just like try-outs, I was going right for the goal post. I smacked it and plummeted towards the ground. Why does this happen to me? The ground was frozen over and unforgiving as I hit it hard, my broom sliding about a dozen feet to the left. I could feel myself losing consciousness and hear the thud of feet landing around me but I didn't mind. Right before I hit the post I heard exactly what I needed to hear.

_Ryan scores and Creevey catches the snitch! Gryffindor wins 310 to 150! This is Kaylie Scott! Happy Friday and enjoy your weekend Hogwarts!_

* * *

When I came to it was dark and I was in a bed. Easing myself up, I glanced around. I was in the Hospital Wing and I ached. I eased and arm up to roughly rub my eyes. The room came more into focus and the game came rushing back to me. Fuck yeah, we won. Glancing around I saw my broom propped up near the bed and a vase with a lone flower on the table. It was a dark shade of blue, its petals spread against the light of the early dawn. Ripping the blankets off of me, I eased myself out of the bed and onto the freezing floor. If I stayed any longer the crazy nurse would make me stay in bed. She made me stay two nights the last time this happened. Before I could even reach the door though, hers slammed open.

"Where do you think you're going, young lady?!"

"Uh, back to my bed, old lady," I replied instantaneously. "I'm fine. I don't need to be here any longer."

"You're fine _now_! Do you know what condition you came to me in?! It took both Professor Longbottom and I to carefully transport you up to here after that display in the game. I swear you're worse than all the Weasley's and Potter's put together and they practically have their names engraved on the beds!"

"Hey now, Fey! It wasn't me that caused whatever injury I came in with. It was that bludger that was fired at my back! Honestly poor strategy on their part. Instead of keeping me from scoring they should've prevented Derrick from catching the snitch," I shot back.

"I'm referring to the fact that you almost fell seventy feet onto icy ground! The broken back and concussion I can mend. But if you hit that ground—let's just say that no magic can save you from death, young lady," she replied, grabbing hold of my messy blankets and snapping them straight.

"So you're upset with me over something that I _didn't _get injured for?" I questioned hesitantly. This is beginning to get ridiculous. "Last I checked you're a _nurse_ not my mother."

"Well maybe you need a nice long scolding from her to stop you from doing absolutely mad maneuvers all in the sake of a _game_!" she snapped, looking sternly at me. I felt my blood run cold. I snatched up my broom and my pile of clothes and stalked my way towards the door.

"I'll be sure to have that chat!"

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Where you going?" Dominique asked around a mouthful of chocolate frog. I glanced up from where I was stuffing a few things in a bag and rolled my eyes.

"You've got chocolate everywhere," I pointed out, hoisting it over my shoulder and pulling on my scarf (necessary in the corridors now that we've hit winter). "And if you must know, nosy, back to the Tower. I've got some stuff to do there so I figured I'd stay the night over there tonight."

"One stop trying to hide the fact that you want to intercept Adder when she comes back from the Hospital Wing and two are you sure that's the best idea?" Dominique questioned after wiping her mouth.

"That's not it at all," I demanded.

"Fred, you've been restless since the game yesterday and we all know it's not because you drank too much at the celebration party last night," Dominique snorted. "_And_ I saw you bring in that flower from the greenhouses. Where'd that go? Huh?"

"I have _no_ idea what you're talking about," I replied, stalking towards the door. "But if I did I'd tell you it was for Kelly."

"Yeah! Okay! Captain Denial!" she shouted as the winged boar slid back in front of the archway. I am not in denial. Not in the least. In fact I've never been more angry with a person then I was with Adder Ryan at the moment. I've seen a _lot_ of reckless flying in my day but that bitch takes the crown. She _voluntarily _threw herself down seventy feet all for the matter of a goal that wouldn't even make a difference in the score once the snitch was caught. On top of that she endangered Molly while doing her little broom surfing bit. I've never seen anyone mildly succeed in that move in good weather let alone sleet. She's an absolute idiot who deserved to have her back broken…okay that's a bit harsh. But I was mad none the less. No I am not going to the tower to confront her. I'm going for Roxy. She needs my brotherly support right now.

"Porcupine quills," I sighed. The Fat Lady arched a brow at me but swung forward anyways. The Common room was unusually empty for a Saturday morning. Considering the sleet turned to the first sticking snow last night so most of the younger years were probably out enjoying that. Roxy was curled up in an arm chair, shifting through sheaves of parchment in her lap. She looked up quickly when the door closed but easily relaxed when she saw it was me.

"Hey Rox. Snow not your calling today?" I questioned, depositing my bag in an empty chair.

"Hey Fred, coming back to the tower?" she fired back, pulling out a piece of parchment and holding it out to me. "Mum and Dad send their joy in winning our first match. Uncle Harry told them all about it."

"Just for the night. I wanted to check up on you," I replied taking the letter and scanning it. "They know about Callen?"

"Uncle Neville told them. It's all because word spreads like wildfire here and they couldn't ignore this one," she sighed, raking her fingers through her hair. "Dad's murderous and Mum's having kittens but they say that Callen faces an inquiry with the Heads of Houses and McGonagall. Dad also said that he's bloody proud of you for pummeling him to a pulp. I don't think he knows you got the worse end of the stick."

"Yeah, I can read that. And I totally didn't get the worse end of the stick," I argued defensively. "He was just as bad as I was."

"Please, you were almost sent to a coma. I told you not to get into it," she groaned.

"You're my baby sister-"

"Yeah, yeah. Save the whole overprotective brother bit for another time. I'm fine. You don't need to coddle me," she interrupted, stuffing the parchment into her bag and slipping on her winter coat.

"Now I'm going to go bewitch snowballs to permenately attack Taylor. She told me what happened and that she hooked up with him. Suffice to say friendship over. Even Molly wants to punch her in the face," she sniffed before stepping up to me. "I don't need to be coddled. I'm fine. But thanks for everything anyways. I love you, you big twat."

"Well I'm pleasantly insulted," I laughed, punching her lightly on the shoulder. "Love you too you little bint."

It was eerily quiet with Roxy gone, despite the fact that there were a few other people in the common room besides myself. I allowed myself to squish into my favorite arm chair and gazed lazily into the fire. All I could think about lately was those few days. Everything seemed so far away even though it was less than a week ago. Fire and guilt bubbled up whenever I thought about that incident in the corridor. What the hell kind of guy was I to go snog a girl not fifteen minutes after being dumped by my best friend?

I know what type of guy would; one that was so confused and lost that they needed to just feel something physically to pull them back to earth. I may be a shitty git about it but I wasn't necessarily sorry. Adder Ryan was very fit and to deny that I wasn't _physically_ attracted to her would be wrong. She was the perfect person to unload my need to touch and feel with no attached emotions. In fact it was more than perfect because we absolutely hated each other. She wasn't going to go spouting off about it. And it was one time. I decided that if she were to ask again what the hell it was I would tell her a fluke. Yes, a fluke.

I heard the tell-tale tiny creak of the portrait hole swinging open. Twisting around in my seat I immediately caught eyes with Adder herself. The feeling and heat that charged through me at her sight was almost scary. All the anger I felt towards her actions in the game bubbled up and boiled over. I found that I was already on my feet and across the room before either of us could even question it.

"What the hell were you thinking yesterday?" I questioned, blocking her path to the stairs to her commons.

"Oh will you fucking save it, Weasley? I'm so not in the mood," she snapped, poking me harshly in the chest.

"I don't care if you're in the mood. Why in fucks sake would you even do that?! There was no need for that point. Whoever would've caught the snitch would've won regardless. Yet you decided to be an absolute moron and risk your life to make ten points! Are you kidding me! Honestly woman, do you have a death wish?!" I declared, grabbing hold of her shoulders. She jerked out of my grasp and jutted out her chin, her eyes were just like the color—icy and cold.

"I've already been mothered by that stupid nurse and now you too Weasley?! Get a grip on yourself!" she exploded, shoving me to the side. I grabbed hold of her arm so she couldn't leave and she let out a rather angry snort. Looking around I could tell we had the attention of the room, small audience or not. Not wanting to air this to the world of Hogwarts I dragged her towards the boy's staircase (she was cursing at me the whole way). Stopping at the first years' door, I opened it and checked the room. Empty. Shoving her inside I flicked my wand at the door, silencing us from the outside and locking everyone else out.

"What the hell is your problem?!" she spat. "You don't need to kidnap me! Now let me out of here before I hex you to next year!"

"You're my problem Ryan! Do you know how much sleep I've lost over you?! You absolutely infuriate me! There you were unconscious in that bed with a _broken back_ and you expect me _not_ to be upset?!"

"Yes! Because I'm not your problem Weasley!"

"If you're not mine who else's would you be?! If I didn't get upset at you we wouldn't have a Quidditch team! You could've ruined the season if you went along and killed yourself!"

"It's because of me we won," she declared. "If I didn't distract those Beaters, Merlin knows if Creevey would've caught the snitch."

"Derrick is a great Seeker!" I exploded. "Don't you go inflating your head and thinking our win was all thanks to you. Because it wasn't. Half the game was spent with us worrying about your next move!"

"Which is how we fell behind in points in the first place. If you would just stop worrying about me and pull your head out of your asses we would've scored more fucking points!" Adder sighed.

I advanced a few steps and took her upper arms in my hands again.

"The point was that we were all freaking out about you hurting yourself too much to worry about scoring. Will you just stop and think about someone other than yourself for once?" I questioned, drastically lowering my voice.

"No. Why should I? If I don't think about myself, who will?" she questioned back, her voice at the same level. I could feel the desire pulsating through my veins. The need to release this physical stress I've been feeling for the past week. Here was that opportunity again. Here was the chance to have a worry-free release. Plus I get the bonus of showing this stubborn bitch that there were others out there but herself that cared for her well being. If she was gone I wouldn't have the chance for the release. I wouldn't be able to physically get over everything I've been going through.

"I thought I told you to never stare at me like that again, Weasley. Fuck of-"

I cut off her words with a rushed kiss. Trapping her face in my hands and pressing my body against her hard. She pushed away for a moment and glared at me.

"It hasn't been a week yet. I told you to not do this again," she warned.

"Stuff it," I groaned, slamming my lips into hers again. I could feel her physically react this time. Her hand winding through my hair and the other fisted into my back pocket, pulling me closer to her. I pulled back a moment. "This is physical, do you hear. This is no feelings attached."

"The only feeling I have for you is unadulterated hatred," she growled, pressing her hips against me firmer. I immediately felt the reaction.

"You don't even have to agree. I know you hate my guts. But that," she laughed, wiggling her hips against my pelvis a bit. "That is something that can't lie. That's a weakness, Weasley. I like weakness."

"I thought I told you to stuff it," I declared, grabbing her face and slamming my lips into hers again. She pulled herself flush against me, standing on her toes to press her lips against mine harder. I lifted her again, allowing her to wrap her legs around my waist and explore my mouth with her own further. Backing up I felt the edge of the bed hit my legs and allowing me to collapse onto the down mattress. Adder slipped her legs on either side of my hips. She was still wearing the flimsy Hospital Wing pajamas so I could feel every bit of her above my jeans. She pressed down on top of me, smiling coyly as I squirmed slightly.

"Weakness, Weasley," she repeated, bending down and kissing along my jaw line. She captured my ear lobe with her teeth again, her hot breath hitting my neck as she spoke. "This is something that everyone needs to wrap their head around. Power can't be held without weakness."

I felt the low pressure in the pit of my stomach as she said that. Swiftly I flipped her so I was pressing her firmly into the mattress. Her ice blue eyes lit up slightly as I leaned down and began to return the favor to her neck. She let out a low almost moan, making every part of me ache with want.

"Who the hell says you're the one in power here," I whispered, clearing some of her fire red hair to the side so I could pepper kisses right behind her ear lobe. "If I'm not mistaken you seem to posses some weakness of your own."

"Don't confuse weakness with desire," she breathed out, lifting her hips to meet mine and winding them in a circle.

"Now you're just being a hypocrite," I laughed, making her squirm even more as my breath hit her neck. I had her under me. In my control. I'm not a controlling person. But having this person that I loathed to the point of wanting her more than anything at my mercy was such a fulfilling feeling. It was hot.

"If you don't take off your pants right now, I'm walking," she ordered, forcing me to sit up. She quickly whipped her pajama top over her head, bearing herself to me. As I fumbled with the button of my pants I forced her down again so I could leave trails of kisses along her chest and collar bone. She moaned, fisting her hand in my hair and using the other to help get my pants off. I reached over for my wand so I could cast the proper enchantments but she caught my hand in hers as she was kicking off her own pants.

"I'm on the potion," she smirked, pulling me down to her. Everything felt like it was on fire as I hitched her leg over my hip. Her phoenix hair was splayed out on the pillow and her ice blue eyes were trained on mine. I felt everything release as I made my first move. All the struggle I've been going through, all the mental confusion, released as she closed her eyes in ecstasy. For once I had Adder Ryan under my control and I sure as hell liked it. It was a tangle of limbs and hips and lips. It was a struggle of power between us; a fight that neither of us cared if we won or not. It was pure, raw, sex and it was everything I needed at the moment.

It seemed like it lasted a lifetime but soon we were spent and left panting and sweaty in the sheets. I turned to look at her. She seemed to have more life than before, her eyes trained up towards the overhang and one hand detangling her hair.

"What the hell do we do now?" I questioned, propping my head in my hand. Adder looked at me then. I couldn't read what was behind her eyes. It was both sinister and soft. A mixture I wasn't sure I knew exactly what to do with.

"I'm going to go shower," she stated simply. "And you can ask me that question again in a week."


	20. Chapter 19

"Don't you have to pack?" Fred questioned as he lifted his head and propped it up on my bare knee. Screw a week before him asking me anything. It was a day before Fred and I found ourselves tangled into the sheets together again. It seems that every argument builds to the same thing. It can be the smallest argument. 'You didn't do the spell properly' to 'I can't believe you wouldn't pass the potatoes' and then BHAM! Sex. Lots and lots of sex with Fred Weasley. It's the perfect plan. It's just like those girls in the bathroom. I have all this control over him because he always initiates it and I can just feel him wanting me. It gives me that power to hide behind my walls. We're not going to tell anyone. Scratch that—we _haven't_ told anyone. Now a week and half later we're still sneaking around. I can pull this rug out from under his feet at any moment. I can tell the world we've been sleeping together. I have that power.

Then there's the part of me that I didn't even know was there, the lonely part that enjoys the touch of his fingers on me, the feel of his lips on mine, and our hips grinding together. It's a primal reaction that I haven't had the fortune to take part in a long time.

"I thought we agreed not to talk when this happens?" I groaned, scooting back so his head fell down on the couch we transfigured a couple desks into.

"Well aren't you a peach to be around," he snorted, sitting up and scruffing the back of his hair.

"I can't believe we're mid-coitus and you ask me if I've packed," I scoffed back.

"I can't believe you just used the phrase mid-coitus," he shot back, his eyes narrowing slightly.

"If you're really not going to go and continue then I'm just going to get dressed," I snapped, getting up and beginning to look for my underwear.

"I'll just enjoy the view then," he laughed, lounging back. I looked over my shoulder at him blatantly watching me bend over.

"You're a total pig. Who knew," I declared, finally finding my thong stuffed in the leg of my jeans. I slid them on and stalked over to grab my bra that was hanging over the back of the couch.

"You should pack warmer underwear for back home. It's colder there then here. Which is difficult because it's cold as hell here," he stated, grabbing my wrist as I reached for my sweater.

"What the fuck are you on? I'm staying here for the holiday. I have nowhere else to go!" I exclaimed roughly yanking the sweater over my head and pulling my pea coat on top of it. Fred's brow wrinkled slightly as he pulled his own jeans over his boxers.

"Are you daft? McGonagall said you're staying at my Uncle's for the holiday. Which means, unfortunately, that you get to spend Christmas with me and my family," he declared, looking at me as if I didn't have a head.

"You've got to be kidding me," I snapped, grabbing a graphite pencil from my bag and twisting my mangled hair on top of my head. "Why the hell would I want to do that?"

"Don't think you've really got a choice, love."

"I TOLD YOU NOT TO CALL ME THAT! No pet names, no post-sex kisses, no feelings. That's what we agreed on, isn't it? If you're too stupid to comply we can just stop," I snapped, yanking my bag over my shoulders. Fred seemed appropriately abashed and kind of hurt.

"Sorry, slip of the tongue. Now if I'm not going to finish getting off I am going to finish packing. See you on the train tomorrow," he shrugged, yanking on the rest of his clothes. He stopped for a second to just look at me, hovering, before shaking his head and pushing out in front of me.

"Not if I can help it!" I shouted after him. After waiting the appropriate time between him leaving, I fixed the couch back and took off in the opposite direction. I'd rather spend Christmas alone then with a family that certainly didn't want me around. Sometimes I'm not sure Fred even wants me around. Sometimes, after we're finished he'll just look at me with this look in his eyes. I'm not quite sure what it is but it probably has to do with regret.

"Let me up," I ordered the gargoyle in front of McGonagall's office.

"I will alert the Headmistress you're here. One moment please," it replied, turning its back on me. Well lovely. Thanks. Make me wait. Idiot. "The Headmistress will see you."

"Bout time," I snapped, making sure to give the gargoyle a face full of backpack as I ran past. I allowed one firm knock before barging in. McGonagall was sitting primly just waiting for me.

"Can I help you, Miss Ryan?"

"I'm not going," I declared, plopping down in my regular chair and crossing my arms over my chest.

"I'm afraid it's not your choice, dear," McGonagall sighed.

"Why the hell would I want to spend a holiday of all things with people that hate my guts?"

"It seems that not all of them hate your guts. Dominique and Fred have seemed to take quite a liking to you. And James praises your flying skills, which from him is quite a compliment."

"You have got to be kidding me. James thinks I'm a bitch for not passing more in the game and Fred is the leader of my Hate Club. Stop fabricating evidence," I declared. "The only I'll give you is Dominique and I believe she just tolerates me at best."

"Well it's still not your choice. I've received a letter from your father-"

"WHAT?!"

"And he's stated that he wishes you to be somewhere where you'll have more supervision over the holiday," she finished, completely ignoring my outburst.

"Dad's written _you_?! I haven't received one letter! Not even on my birthday and he's written you?!" I exploded. "That's complete and utter bullshit!"

"Foul language aside I think you'll rather enjoy having the holiday with the Potter and the Weasley's. Molly is quite welcoming to anyone who wishes to join and she's a magnificent cook so your Christmas lunch should be quite pleasant," McGonagall continued calmly.

"Molly Weasley hates my guts too. I almost knocked her off her broom."

"Molly's namesake, dear," McGonagall sighed.

"There's more of them?" I groaned, resting my head on the desk. "This Christmas is going to suck."

"Just go into it with an open mind. And be aware that Professor Longbottom will escort you to the train."

"Wouldn't expect anything less from your wardens, teach," I snapped. "You love to keep the tight leash and I'm just the dog. Woof, woof."

"Try and enjoy yourself. You might be surprised," McGonagall finished, clearly ending the conversation. It didn't stop me from giving her the dirtiest look I could and getting in the last word.

"I highly doubt it."

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Fred!"

I stopped in my tracks, almost sending my trunk crashing into the second year in front of me. I was enroute to finding the cabin that housed Darren and Corey and the train was crowded with kids doing the same. I lowered it and turned towards the voice, feeling my face crack into a grin.

"Hey Pixie," I greeted, lifting up my trunk again but this time with the aid of Kelly. "Where've you been?"

"Where've I been? Freddy you've been MIA for like two and half weeks. I've been worried," she laughed, pulling her wand away to send the Fanged Frisbee that was hurled towards us back to its owner.

"I've been around. Lot of course work. N.E.W.T.S and all, ya know," I replied, feeling my neck grow hot. It was hard lying to Kelly of all people about my sudden disappearances. It was like Adder was a drug. I just kept winding back in bed with her and I didn't care who I hurt hiding it from everyone. I felt like a horrible person but when I was with her everything was easier. I didn't have to think about ruined relationships. I don't have to worry about coursework or Quidditch. All that's there is skin and touch. It's all that matters. I don't even need words and not just because we've banned them. I watched Uncle Neville escort her on the train this morning. She didn't look happy. Not that she ever really did look happy she just looked more upset than usual.

"Heard Adder's joining you for the Holiday's," Kelly declared suddenly.

"Yeah, should be a barrel of acromantulas," I snorted, nudging open the door to the carriage.

"Really? You really think it's going to be that bad?" Kelly questioned, her brow furrowing.

"Yes, it's going to be a disaster," I coughed. "What're you playing at?"

"Nothing. Check for my gift under the tree, yeah? I think you'll like it. I'll be off, Carrie's waiting," Kelly sighed, standing up on her tip toes and giving me a brief kiss on the cheek. "I miss you."

"I miss you too Pix. New Years we'll have a chat. Catch up, yeah?" I suggested, giving her a genial grin. Kelly's was more watered down but she smiled none the less before heading down the hall. I deposited my trunk and excused myself from Darren and Corey. It took about five minutes but finally found Adder alone in a car by the end of the train. I eased the door open and slipped into the seat across from her.

"What do you want, Weasley? This isn't the best time for a hook-up, now is it?" Adder sighed, not even looking up from her sketch book. I stared at her for a moment. Her hair was glinting in the sun and falling slightly in her eyes. There was a small crease between her eyebrows and the very tip of her tongue was peeking out between her teeth as she used smooth broad stroked with her stick of charcoal.

"What're you drawing?" I found myself questioning. Her head snapped up and she gave me a confused look.

"What? Are we doing small talk now?" she questioned, going immediately back to her drawing. "Just leave me alone."

"We can't do small talk?" I found myself retorting. "Why not?"

"Because I hate you?" she replied, snapping her sketch book shut with a groan.

"Even heroes and villains have witty banter. Haven't you ever watched a Muggle superhero movie?" I laughed. "Just show me what you're drawing!"

"Fuck off, Weasley," she growled, holding her book protectively to her chest.

"Look, Adder," I sighed. Her eyebrows shot up. Usually at this point we're only into last names. "This is going to be a long holiday if you act this hostile. I know that you and Dom are kinda friends but there are some younger kids in my family. I have a request for you."

Silence.

"If you get angry—well angrier than normal—just let me be your punching bag. Take it out on me. Not my family. The adults—well they've all been through enough in their lives. It's the holiday's let's make this easiest on them as possible, yeah? But by all means, continue using me as your verbal murder victim. I'd be happy to take the heat," I declared before getting up and leaving her be.

The train ride was long. Longer then what it usually feels like. I kept thinking about my request to Adder. She never answered me. For all I know she could go the complete opposite and make it living hell for all of us. I can never figure out what she's thinking. It's one of the single most infuriating things about her. Trust me it's hard to pick just one. The sick part of me fears that she'll cut it all off because of the civil way I spoke to her. It broke all of our rules. We don't speak unless we fight, then we have sex (not speaking), then we continue the whole thing over. We don't plead for mercy.

I don't know what I'll do if she takes herself away from me. I've leveled it out in my head as a drug. I need the physicality. And if she rips that rug from under my feet where will I be left?

With my thoughts that have been driving me crazy. The thoughts that I'm not a good person? I'm a shitty best friend. Broke her heart. I'm a shitty brother. Couldn't prevent her heart from getting broken. I'm a shitty enemy. I'm literally sleeping with her. But when I am with her it all goes away. It's all so much easier to deal with. Never in my life did I think things would get this complicated for me. I always thought I would stride along on my joking and my pranks. But where do I go when I reach a situation that can't be joked away?

"Oi! Weasley, wake up! We're here!" Corey exclaimed, chucking something at my face. I opened my eyes and good naturedly threw it back at him before gathering my luggage. I suppose once Adder goes home at the end of the year everything will just fall back into place. She's the one that's unearthed everything and maybe with her gone it'll all be set right.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"So Victoire, my older sister, is going to stay at The Burrow during our holiday so you can take her bed," Dominique declared, hovering both our trunks up the rickety and worn wooden stairs in her family's beach-side cottage. It was a strange site, the sea meeting snow. I longed to get my hands on the supplies from my studio back at school and paint it. Pastel would do nicely.

"She didn't have to do that," I grumbled. "I could've stayed at school."

"Yeah, we all know that's not an option," Dominique snorted. "Look, the Ministry wanted to put an anti-apparation bracelet on you but Fred and I talked our Uncle out of it. We convinced him you weren't going to try to run. So try and behave?"

I looked up in surprise. This is the second time a Weasley has pleaded with me to not make everyone hate me here. To be honest I wasn't sure of my course of action myself. I saw most of their family on the platform. There were a few younger ones that weren't even in school yet. Two ten year olds that reminded me so much of my sister it _almost_ made my heart ache. Who knew I'd ever miss that royal perfect pain in my side?

"That's the second one of you that expects the worst of me," I replied quietly.

"Oh stuff it," Dominique snorted. "I know you're perfectly capable of being civil but the evidence stands against you. I just want to make sure."

"I'll be out of everyone's hair," I shrugged, placing my bag on the bed Dominique had pointed to. "I'll just keep to myself, alright?"

"Oh stuff that too!" Dominique declared. I gave her a small glare but she merely grinned at me. "You're not going to sit in this room by yourself. One my mother won't let you and two you're going to be out present shopping with me and Fred later. No need to be alone."

"And what if I don't want to?" I questioned hotly.

"And what if I don't care?" she retorted. "You're coming. Plus it'll prove that they really don't need to put that wretched bracelet on you. Have you seen the size of those things? All the magic in the world and they still weigh the size of a small hippogriff. Now get in warmer clothes. I don't know how you survive in your minimal wardrobe. You're going to catch pneumonia."

"Merlin, you're annoyingly bossy," I snapped.

Dominique merely shrugged and opened my trunk with a flick of her wand.

"We're leaving in twenty. See you downstairs."

It only took a well placed finger behind her back before I turned to my trunk. I had plenty of warm things. It snowed at Rowlings during the winter. I just never seemed to get that cold there. But Dominique was right, it was absolutely freezing here. I yanked a heavy pair of wool tights out of my bag and began to change into them and an ice blue thermal before surveying the rest of my options. Don't ask me why I was bothering to dress up more than normal. I'm blaming it on the prospect of being completely free from the uniform but I just felt like putting together an outfit rather than just jeans and a sweater. Yanking on a chunky and very holey cable knit sweater over my leather mini I just needed to find some leg warmers, scarf and hat and I'd be all set. I grabbed the plain black leg warmers, my grey cashmere scarf and my slouchy grey hat with the ice blue pom-pom on the top. I felt myself smile slightly. Mrs. Stevens had made them. Who knew I'd miss her so much as well? Finally yanking my waterproof boots and coat on, I hesitantly made my way down the creaky stairs and into their small living room. Dominique was digging into her bag that was strung across her peacock blue coat but looked up when I entered.

"Good, that's more like it," she declared, smiling in approval. "Now let's go. We're late."

She took off at a brisk pace towards the front door, not leaving me any choice but to hoist my bag over my shoulders and follow. As soon as we hit the crisp air she held out her hand to me. I eyed it warily.

"Oh please, I'm not going to bite," she huffed, shaking her hand impatiently. I took it hesitantly and suddenly I was squeezed through the tube of apparation. When we were able to breathe again we were in a quaint little courtyard that seemed to be invisible to the Muggles walking outside of it.

"Finally! It took you guys for-fucking-ever," Fred groaned. "I'm bloody freezing my bollocks off here."

"Oh save it," Dominique huffed, opening the little wrought-iron gate and slipping into the street. Fred eyed me warily for a moment before I took a deep breath in.

"I'm not going to ruin your family's Christmas. I've—well—I've," I cut off. I couldn't go telling him that I've had too many of my own ruined to do that to somebody else. We already have a power struggle as it is and I wasn't going to slide into the weakness category. "Just don't worry about it. But I am going take up the offer to make you my verbal punching bag. Now get the gate, dumbass."

"Aye, aye, Madame Bitchface," Fred grinned, grabbing the handle of the gate and stepping aside so I can walk out in front of him. "And, by the way, since you're going to be so mean to me I'm going to try and butter you up. It's worth a try to save my own Holiday, eh? So you look really lovely out of uniform and dressed out, yeah?"

"Shut the hell up, Weasley," I declared, stalking in front of him so I could hide the small smile growing on my face. That one surprised me the most. I haven't wanted to voluntarily smile at something, at least not at something that I haven't caused. It was foreign and a bit frightening.

"Just letting you know that there's not a chance that I'll shut up," he declared catching up with me and Dom.

"Great," Dom deadpanned, standing on her tip toes and looking around the crowd.

"What if I make you, Weasley?" I snapped, poking him harshly in the side.

"That," he snorted. "I'll welcome."

Suddenly Dominique let out such a high pitched squeal I was tempted to cover my ears.

"Bloody hell, woman! Lower the decibel at least!" Fred snapped, plugging a finger in his ear and shaking it around. But Dominique wasn't listening, she was too busy sucking some dudes face off while another petite girl with platinum blonde hair rolled her eyes. She turned her back on the couple and focused on me and Fred instead.

"Hey! I don't know if you remember me," she started, holding her hand out to Fred.

"Are you kidding me? Who the hell can forget the girl in the brilliant skin tight leather pants? Leah, right?" he declared, ignoring the outstretched hand and pulling her into a hug.

"Right!" she laughed, hugging him back.

"Still got those pants? Love to see you model them," Fred laughed, pulling away and giving her a slightly cocky smile.

"Leave her be, Fredrick," Dominique declared, un-attaching herself from the guy.

"Why are you still seeing that drummer dude?" Fred questioned with a small frown. Leah blushed slightly and shook her head.

"Nope. I'm in a show right now so I'm attachment free," she laughed, holding out her arms. Fred seemed to perk up at that smiling brightly.

"Brill."

"Right—Adder I don't know if you remember my boyfriend Cameron but that sprite is my good friend Leah. Guys this is Adder."

"You a witch too?" Leah questioned brightly. And then it clicked. I completely forgot that Dominique's boyfriend was a Muggle. _Leah_ must be one too.

"Yeah—I'm one of those," I declared sarcastically and my eyes narrowing slightly. She didn't seem to pick up on my ill vibes. Fred sure did though. He shot me a confused look before slinging an arm around Leah and Dom's shoulder.

"We'll be off then, eh?"

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Can anybody feel their feet?" I whined, hoisting my few shopping bags onto my shoulder so my hands can defrost.

"Looks like someone isn't wearing the right socks," Leah laughed, poking me in the side.

"And your hands are freezing! I can feel it through my coat!" I exclaimed, capturing her hands in mine and rubbing them together. "Better?"

"Weasley, your hands are just as cold as hers. It's a double negative and you're not helping," Adder snapped, stuffing her hands in her pockets. I gave her a bewildered look. She's been acting weird all day. I get her lashing out on me but she hasn't given poor Leah a break. She has no idea what's going on and keeps shooting Dominique confused glances. "Maybe if you didn't touch him you guys could just be cold on your own."

"Duh, body heat," I put in, throwing an arm around her shoulder. "It totally helps."

Adder just glowered at me before stalking ahead to the shop that Dominique and Cameron slipped into.

"Well she hates my guts," Leah breathed out, giving me a bewildered look.

"She kinda hates everybody's' guts, don't take it personally," I shrugged, grabbing for the door.

"Are you sure she doesn't like you? I mean you've been pleasantly flirty with me and she isn't brutal to Dominique and Cameron."

"No. She doesn't like me. Trust me that's one thing I know," I laughed, yanking open the door. "Have I really been _that_ flirty? Are you opposed?"

"No. Not opposed to it because you're adorable and funny. But Fred, I'm like three years older then you and always traveling around for work. In fact, I'll be in Paris for a month after the New Years. Just know that nothing is going to happen," she shrugged, looking pretty pathetic at the prospect of turning me down like this.

"Leah, no need to give me the speech, it's no biggie. I know _nothing_ is going to happen here. I'm cool with that. I'm just a naturally flirty guy," I laughed, giving her a side hug and beginning to browse the aisles for something that James would like. I reached the back row and froze. Adder was in the back corner flipping furiously through one of the books from the shelves.

"Did that book commit a murder?" I questioned hesitantly. Adder jumped a foot in the air and the book went plummeting down onto her foot.

"Fuck Weasley! Are you wearing Sneaky Sneakers?! Don't creep up on me like that!" she snapped, grabbing the book and smacking me with it.

"Oi! We don't do physical abuse!" I exclaimed, rubbing the spot on my chest. That was a big book.

"Yeah well I'm feeling particularly murderous right now. If I had _any _idea of what Dom's house was called I would Apparate there faster than you could blink. I'm _so _done with this day!" she declared, shoving the book back on the shelf and turning to stalk away.

"Hey! What's wrong! I thought today has been fun," I shrugged, pulling her back to level with me.

"I imagine you would," she sniffed, turning to go again. And then it clicked. Part of what Leah said was totally right. Adder Ryan was completely—

"Jealous! You're completely jealous of me flirting with Leah!" I exclaimed.

"Shit! Will you lower your voice?" She exclaimed, slapping a hand over my mouth. "For your information I will never be jealous of you Fred. You can save that for your wank bank fantasies."

I reached up and gently pulled her hand from my mouth.

"It's okay to admit it. I'd be jealous of me too," I laughed, walking forward so she was backed into the bookshelves.

"Oh shove that theory up your ass. I'm pissed because I've been a fucking fifth wheel all day. It's ridiculous how inconsiderate you Weasley's are considering I'm a guest," she declared, looking up at me defiantly. There was pure anger in her eyes but it faltered for a second and there was a flash of hurt. Gently I cupped one side of her face, gave a quick scan around us, and blanketed my lips over hers. The kiss was short but soft. When I pulled away there was that angered confused look that I've come so accustomed to.

"You're right. It was inconsiderate and I'm sorry," I shrugged, stepping away and heading towards a different aisle. I didn't hear Adder follow me so I knew I'd hear more about that public kiss later. Most likely resulting in her hitting me. Why the fuck am I smiling about that? To cover my own shock I turned to the shelves to browse. It was our last stop, a magical odds and ends shop in downtown London. Tucked behind a beaters bat and a crystal ball was a small jewelry box. I still needed to cover some female gifts so I curiously opened it up. As soon as I saw it I checked over my shoulder. Adder was still in the corner with the books, looking angry as ever. It worked. I can just get James candy from Wheezes. This, this gift was perfect for someone else.

Everything has hit me so hard lately. After that train ride I've been thinking. Thinking about how if Adder went things could be better. But then I realized I fucking gravitate around this bitch. When she's in the room I'm looking at her. When she's with me things are easier. It's twisted as hell, that I could feel these things and still want to be around her. We're so abusive to each other it's not healthy. But Louis was right during trials. There's a reason _she's_ the one that gets so under my skin and gets me so agitated. I don't know if her leaving would exactly solve things.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

Just do it, Adder. It's not that hard to do. You've done it sarcastically how is it any different now? Nobody else is around. Just say sorry for being such a bitch earlier. He apologized. Usually you return from one. I've had enough etiquette in my younger years to know such. This is just so foreign. I haven't actually _apologized_ to someone in about four years. Wait, why am I deciding to do it now? He deserved the treatment. Even he knows that! Fuck this. I'm not apologizing in the least. In fact, now I'm pissed.

"Weasley!" I declared, stomping out of the bathroom of the small flat that I first spoke to him in. "I want a few words with you."

"Here it goes," he groaned, looking up from the stove. He was attempting to make us some tea after Leah left and Cameron and Dom when who knows where to most likely fuck. He straightened up and held out his arms. "Let me have it. Tell me how much of an arsehole I was today. And that I was wrong to kiss you in public. And that I'm the world's worst person."

"You forgot fuckwad," I mumbled, crossing my arms over my chest.

"And I'm a fuckwad," he relented, bowing low. "Now can we have tea in peace? That means without you harping on me for two seconds. I know I agreed to this, to be a punching bag, but I need just a mo, yeah?"

"Yeah," I agreed, pulling out the stool and plopping down at the island. Fred merely stood there with his jaw slack. "Are you going to make the tea then?"

"Just give me a moment to relish here. Adder Ryan just actually _agreed _with me. Just let me enjoy it for a second, okay?"

"Make the damn tea, Weasley," I groaned, putting my head in my hands. I knew I would regret that.

"Moment over," he laughed, tapping the kettle with his wand and making it sing. He poured it out into two mugs and slid one over to me before sitting across from me.

"You okay?" he questioned suddenly.

"Am I okay?" I repeated, rimming the mug with my finger. I was tired. That's for sure. Tired enough that I knew we were going to have sex so my walls were already down. I was too tired to be angry for once. "I'm okay."

"You don't look it. Must be hard, yeah? Having to be away from your family for Christmas?" he added, taking a sip and getting up to wander around the flat. "My Dad gifted this to me, you know? He and his brother lived here when they first opened the shop. When I turned fourteen he said I can stay here for the summers in exchange for free labor. I imagine I'll live here when I take over the shop."

"I'm going to ignore the personal question and just skip to asking you why you're telling me all this?" I questioned wearily.

"Because I'm going to try something real quick. I know it'll probably end in you punching me and cussing me out but I'm going to share something personal with you. Get in the Christmas spirit, yeah?"

I blinked at him. This was new. Fred turned to look at me. Back was that gentle look on his face like when I confronted him for looking at my sketch book in the Hospital Wing or like the guy that wanted to protect me in the club. There was a feeling way down that stirred and sniffed the air when he looked at me like that. When I stayed silent he continued.

"See my Dad was a twin. He was his best friend. I'm named after him you know."

"Which one is he? Are they fraternal?" I found myself questioning. I snapped my mouth shut. I can't be getting into this. Fred grabbed a picture off a mantle and set it in front of me.

"Completely identical, until my Dad lost his ear that is. My Uncle Fred was murdered in the big war. Our family was heavily involved in it. But, uh, since then nobody has really inhabited this flat. I was the next occupant.

"Sometimes I think Dad wants me to be _just_ like his brother. Be the one to produce new product and run the store. I'm happy to run the store but to be honest I'd rather market everything then make it up. I'm not cut out for that. James and Kent are far better."

He gave a wry little laugh then.

"I don't think I've told anybody this, let alone my greatest enemy."

When he looked at me there was no more carefree Fred. There was no more angry Fred. There was no more nurturing Fred. There was a Fred I didn't know exactly. I wanted to draw out his face right then and examine it so I can figure out exactly what it meant. It was a mixture between confusion and pain and for the first time in years my heart had a slight pulling ache behind it.

"You didn't need to tell me all that," I managed to get out. He looked back down at the picture in his hand and shrugged as the two identical faces waved back at him.

"Christmas is all about sharing, isn't it?"

I lightly slid out of my stool and went over to him. He was still transfixed on the frame, his brow furrowed still in that mysterious expression. Carefully I tilted his face so he was looking at me. His expression changed to one of befuddlement as I bent down and did a first; initiated a kiss. It wasn't like our flushed and hurried kisses of the past. This one was gentler. This one was like the hospital wing. Slowly his arm slid around my waist as he lifted me to his lap, his mouth moving tangents upon my own. I felt warm all over. Not flushed or flurried. Just warm. I pulled back and gnawed on my lower lip.

"You okay?" he questioned lightly.

"Just shut the hell up and kiss me like that again," I demanded, folding into him. His hand was wielding my face to his. It was all so slow and tempo, like a watercolor. Soft around the edges, you know? It was odd and different. It was scary almost.

Easily he lifted me up and, still kissing my softly, brought me into one of the bedrooms. It was an easy transition into what we usually wound up doing. But this time there was no biting or scratching in heat, only soft caresses and warm bodies. Only my worst nightmare-

Happiness.


	21. Chapter 20

"MUMMY!"

"What is it now Fredrick? Can't we not get a bit of quiet on Christmas?" Mum sighed, leaning on my doorjamb and making me jump about a foot in the air.

"That's a total oxymoron. Honestly, woman, quiet on Christmas? Does this look okay?" I questioned, holding up the lump of a package I attempted to wrap with my wand.

"Is it a ball of paper?" she giggled, coming inside and taking it from me.

"No! It's a box!" I exclaimed, my pride only a little bit hurt, as I took it back.

"Did you wrap it with your feet?" Mum snorted, trying to snatch it from me again.

"No! I wrapped it with my wand!" I argued, holding it above her head.

"Why not just by hand then? All your other packages look—well they look subpar but better than that," she declared.

"I just wanted it to look nice," I shrugged, attempting to pick apart the paper so I could have a go again. Mum sighed and brandished her wand, with a flick there was a perfectly wrapped present.

"Happy Christmas dear, we're heading out to lunch in fifteen minutes," she announced, giving me a snarky smile before heading off towards her own bedroom. I sucked in a hovering breath. Whatever happened a few nights ago has been stuck to me. In every moment, sleep or awake. All I could think about was her face right before she kissed me. It was the most lovely I've ever seen her. I've always known she was attractive but when she softened up she took my breath away. I gazed into the mirror and attempted to right my wavy hair. It was sticking all witch way.

"ROXY!"

"What?!" Roxy shrieked, flying into my room, half her hair mused up from her after breakie nap. "Whatsthematter?!"

"Do you have a hairbrush?" I questioned, attempting to finger fix my hair.

"You woke me up with that dragon bellow to ask me for a hairbrush?" Roxy snorted, wiping the sleep out of her eyes. "You're an idiot."

"Do you have one? And we're leaving to lunch in fifteen. Better go get ready, you know pictures are taken." I repeated, straightening out my hunter green button up shirt. Roxy put upon a sigh before coming over and unbuttoning the top two buttons on the shirt as well as the cuffs.

"Why are you extra dressed up?" she questioned, rolling the sleeves to my elbows.

"Pictures, I told you," I grumbled, but gave her a begrudging smile.

"Don't you dare tuck that shirt into your jeans. I'll go get that hairbrush for you," she declared, muttering something about styleless on her way out. A minute later a hairbrush was thrown across the hall from her room to mine, almost hitting me in the head.

"Good arm, dear," Dad declared, lazily peeking into my room.

"Are you trying to part your hair down the center?" he snorted, coming in and grabbing the brush from my hands. "What the hell is up with you?"

"Nothing," I grumbled, going back to my hands. Wind tousled hair it is.

"Well nice getup regardless, Freddio. I'll be sure to wear my bow tie," Dad giggled, waltzing out of my room.

"Just make sure it's the one that screams whenever someone greets you!" I called after, listening to his bark of laughter from all the way down the hall. Right, that'll do. I quickly slipped the only nicely wrapped present I had in my back pocket and threw on my scarf and pea coat. Mum was already making her way towards the stairs when I emerged, all in her own Christmas best.

"You look nice, dear. The hair is very Harry Potterish," she snorted, slipping her arm through mine and leading us to the fireplace before looking towards the stairs. "WILL YOU LOT GET DOWN HERE?! I DO NOT WANT TO GET STUCK WITH ELONGATING THE HOUSE LIKE LAST YEAR!"

"Coming, Mum! Don't have kittens," Roxy grumbled, sticking the last few pins into the bun on top of her head. She smoothed out her lace top and looked towards the stairs. "By the way Dad took your suggestion to heart. He's wearing the bow tie."

"Fredrick when your Grandmother doesn't ask one of us to do the dishes, you'll do them, that'll be your punishment for this," Mum deadpanned, shoving the large bag of presents into my arms and throwing the floo powder into the fireplace.

Coming out of the spinning tundra into the hustle and bustle of The Burrow made me smile more then I have in a long time. There's nothing I love more than Christmas at the Burrow.

"Fred! Dear! Could you?" Grandmum grunted, the table hovering right where people let out of the fireplace. I quickly whipped out my wand and took over the levitating that so we could stretch it out to fit the now magically enlarged room. Once it was back down she let out a large breath of relief. "Thank you dear. Now I have a question for you, follow me."

When Grandmum asks you to do something you do it so I trotted after her into the pantry where she kept all of our gifts (the customary sweater) for the exchange. She took out her wand and pointed at the small pile of extras (typically Kaylie, Kent, Cameron, ect) and finally hovered one to me.

"Do you think that'll fit your friend Addison?" she questioned, motioning me to pull the sweater from the bag. It was the exact shade of her eyes and had a small silver 'A.R.' embroidered on the breast.

"You made her a sweater Gran?"

"Well of course! I whipped it up last night when Bill told me that not a single package came in for her for under the tree."

"Not one?" I choked, my heart almost swelling to twice its size.

"No dear. He said that Dominique got her something but I thought it might be nice for her to open something here as well," Grandmum shrugged, before looking at me expectantly. "I had to go off a picture for size but I figured that the color would match her eyes spectacularly."

"Yeah, it'll probably fit fine. And if you want your head still, call her Adder not Addison," I laughed, folding it up and putting it back in the bag.

"Duly noted, dear," she exclaimed pulling me into one of her back-breaking hugs. "Are you wearing cologne, Fred?"

"No of course not," I stuttered, pulling away. "That's just man musk!"

"Yes, of course," Gran deadpanned, before bustling out of the pantry laughing at my use of the phrase 'man musk'. Rolling my eyes, I swung open the door to rejoin the household only to hit something solid—as per usual in this house. I expected an 'Oi!' or a 'Bloody hell' but instead was greeted with a rounding American curse. Shit.

"Damn, sorry Adder!" I exclaimed, grabbing her hand and steadying her as she held tight to her nose. "Always happens here. Small house, lots of people."

"Wonderful," she muttered through her fingers, pulling them away to grimace. "Bloody nose."

"Hey! More British lingo!" I exclaimed proudly.

"No, stupid, an actual bloody nose," she snapped, showing me her fingers and her now freely flowing nose faucet.

"Oh! Bloody hell! C'mon, kitchen is right over here," I hissed, leading her to the icebox and quickly grabbing some ice to place on the bridge of her nose. "Here sit down and tilt your head back."

"Ooh! Fred! You hurt someone! You're in trouble."

"G'way, Lily," I snorted. "It was an accident."

"She's that mean girl that Hugo told me about, isn't she?" Lils questioned, climbing in the chair next to Adder and sitting on it backwards so she could peer in her face. "How'd you get hurt?"

"Your cousin obened a door on my nose," Adder managed to get out through the ice I was holding on her face.

"He always does that. I got a big bruise on my forehead last year because of him," Lily sighed, shaking her head at me.

"Your titchy, not my fault," I argued.

"She's not titchy, Freddy," Lily pointed out sagely.

"Yeah, yeah. Keep up that lip and you'll be in Slytherin next year," I warned. Lily's eyes widened and she went running into the living room to make Uncle Harry proclaim that it wasn't true.

"That wasn't bery nice," Adder mumbled.

"Eh—it's in good heart though. And who're you to talk about nice," I laughed, pulling the ice away to assess the damage. "There, all better."

I emptied the ice and gently took the wet towel to clean up around her nose.

"I'm sorry. Are you okay?"

"Fine, thanks," she grinned, touching her nose gently with two fingers. "Did you get blood on my dress? If you did I'll kill you."

She stood up and held out her arms, giving me an impatient look. I examined her and felt my heart rate quicken a bit. The top of her dress was made of leather and while not too tight to be inappropriate for the occasion (it sure let me have a good eye at her chest) while the bottom was of light floaty fabric. If I could drag her someplace now I would. We haven't had a chance to see each other since that night in my getaway flat. I didn't even get to say goodbye since she snuck off while I was asleep. Then Dom's family took her off to France for two days to celebrate with the Delacour family.

"No, I didn't. But it couldn't ruin the way you look today if I did happen to do so. You look—you look beau—you look really nice."

Seeing her just brought up everything that had happened that night. I'm still questioning exactly why I decided to share that story with her. I don't know really. But the outcome was more then I could hope for. Seeing her here and now only solidified the thoughts that have been roaming my head the last few days. There's no way she can go back to being the hard slab of marble she was before. There's no way after this wonderfully brilliant soft side she showed me. It wasn't even in words. I don't care that she didn't share with me the way I shared with her. The fact that I could hold her when she wasn't rigid said everything.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

"It's okay if you're overwhelmed," Fred declared, tossing some snow in my direction. We had just finished probably the most filling and best meal of my life and all the 'kids' were sent outside while everything got broken down for presents. Just thinking the word sent a shot of morbid pain to my heart. This morning I had one present under the tree, _from Dominique_. My Dad is willing to write a letter to McGonagall but doesn't care enough to write me on my birthday. Now apparently Christmas is blackballed as well. It made me want to curl into a ball and not move for days. It made me want to break everything in sight. For the first time since being here it made me not want to go home.

Being around Fred made everything that much more difficult to comprehend. I didn't want to trust him. I don't know if I ever truly have. But he's been such a part of my fucking sense of self here in England there's no escaping his presence. Then we had sex again two nights ago—something I expected of course—but for some reason it felt different. The happiness that bloomed inside of me scared me so much that I had to leave so we couldn't talk about it.

Then of course I have to run into him in a way that allows him to touch me, befuddling my mind further. I don't know why fire trailed along my skin where he touched it. Of course him hitting me in the nose was all his fucking fault as well. This was all his fucking fault. He's the reason I'm so confused.

"Why would I be overwhelmed?" I questioned, ignoring my inner monologue by packing a handful of snow and chucking it in his direction. It hit him smack in the face, making me burst into laughter.

"Yeah, yeah—we all get it. You're sadistic and enjoy my pain," he groaned wiping the snow from his face.

"No, I'm just ecstatic that I have better aim then you. You merely flung. I throw with purpose," I declared, twirling my skirt a bit and hopping up to sit on a fence post. It was freezing out here, and my dress and tights did nothing to help.

"You're cold," he stated simply.

"It's below zero, dumbass," I pointed out, motioning at the snow around me.

"Want to go inside and get warm?" he questioned suddenly. I looked around at all of his cousins and close family friends shrieking as an all out snow war exploded. They all were very into it despite that they ranged from ten to twenty-one. I looked back at Fred. He had an earnest almost hopeful look on his face. Merlin, he can't keep it in his pants for very long, can he?

"You're a horny ass. You know that, right?" I laughed, hopping off the fence and motioning for him to walk ahead of me.

"I just want to give you something!" he shouted over his shoulder.

"And I'm a hippogriff!" I replied, but followed him into the tight mud-room regardless. He shut the door behind him and firmly flicked his wand at both the outside entrance and the one leading to the house. Curious to see what he would do at his own grandparents' place, I hopped up on the counter and cocked one eyebrow at him.

"What do you want to give me? Can it be reciprocated?" I questioned with a slight smile. "Never pegged you for a family gathering hook-up, you know."

"No—that's not the idea," he laughed, pulling something out of his coat pocket. It was a small square box immaculately wrapped in shiny silver paper with a blue bow. The bow was deep navy, just like his eyes. I furrowed my brow as his placed it in my palm.

"Before you open it—I have a question and…well I guess a statement," he shrugged, closing my fist around it for me.

"Why'd you leave the other night?" he questioned, not allowing his eyes to meet mine. I felt my stomach clench involuntarily.

"I couldn't wait for you to sleep it off. You take forever. I had to get back," I lied, looking down at the hand that clenched the box.

"Okay—then I'm just going to say it now," he declared. My face snapped up. Say _what_? What is he doing? "Adder—I know we've kinda built this thing around mutual hatred but lately…well lately I've been feeling different."  
No. Please. Don't go there. Don't say it. Don't say it.

"Adder—I think that I might have feelings for you and after the other night I thought maybe that you could possibly reciprocate them. I don't know where they came from but they're there and I can't ignore it."

He. Fucking. Said. It. I could feel my throat close up, my fists seize. No. This wasn't supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to get personal. We were supposed to hate each other.

"No, why are you shaking your head?" Fred choked out. I stopped. I didn't realize I had been doing so; so I did what I do best, I steeled myself and looked him straight in the eye and I became the Queen Bitch.

"Are you fucking out of your head Weasley?!" I snapped, jumping off the counter and shoving the present back at him. "What would ever bring you to _ever_ think I felt anything other than hatred for you!?"

His jaw was dropped and his eyes went wide.

"Because we didn't just have sex the other night? Because we most definitely had something more?" he shot back, his voice weak.

"Wrong, Weasley. What were the rules? No fucking feelings! Are you so daft that you had to break that one simple thing! It was _sex_! Nothing less and one hundred percent nothing more."

"No! It wasn't! Why can't you actually fucking _feel_ something for once in your life, Adder!" he exclaimed, taking my shoulders in his hands.

"Don't touch me! This was for my benefit I was once again using you! I was in power! I had you wrapped around my little finger. _You're _the one that kept coming back for more. _You're _the one that initiated everything! _You_ wanted _me_! But you are _not_ allowed to have feelings for me! I've known you for three months. You can't tell me how to feel, you can't even begin to guess, but I'm just going to go ahead and tell you how I _feel _anyways. I don't feel for you. I will never feel for you. So stop trying. Whatever we had going on is _over_."

"You only want to hurt people so the hurt you're feeling lessens! If you would just step back and look and stop being so fucking unhappy with _everything_ in your life then maybe you could feel _something_! You're an Inferi, Adder! A souless shell of a human being," he shot back, his voice rising to my level. "If you just tried to have an inkling of human decency maybe you won't drive everyone away! Maybe you would still be in America and people would want to actually have you around!"

SLAP!

Fred's hand immediately went to his cheek where my palm so cleanly made contact. Both our chests were heaving in the heat of our argument. I've never seen his eyes so hard. I've never seen his eyes look like mine. I thought he was angry when he was facing Callen but I was wrong. He was angry now. He was angry and hurt and not the Fred I knew at all. Good. I needed him to be as far away from me as possible from here on out.

Before either one of us could leave the door leading into the house swung open revealing his Uncle Ron. He eyed us wearily before clearing his throat.

"Am I interrupting something?" he questioned.

"NO!" we both declared at the same time.

"We're _finished_," I stated before trying to squeeze past his uncle all while attempting to not touch Fred.

"Oi! I didn't come here for my health! An urgent message came in for you, Adder. You're to go home immediately," Ron stated firmly.

"According to who?" I grumbled, stalking into the kitchen and hoisting my bag over my shoulder.

"Your father. He's also requested that Fred escort you via portkey."

"Not gonna happen," Fred spat, glaring at me over top his uncle's head.

"It was a rhetorical offer. You're going anyways, mate," Ron shrugged.

"Great, just brilliant. Let's get this over with so I can come back and enjoy my Holiday with people that I _actually care about_," he declared, shooting the last three words at me like daggers.

"Oh puh-lease! I thought we _just_ discussed this, you big fat idiot. Don't try to take it all back! The words are out there!" I snapped, waving my hands in the air above my head.

"Right, we better get this done and over with," Ron sighed, shouting over his shoulder for Mr. Potter. Harry languidly came walking in, a smile on his face and Lily on his back. He froze when he noticed the tension in the room, dropping her to the ground and ushering her back to the living room.

"Problem?"

"According to them, no," Ron snorted, grabbing a colander and setting it on the table. He pointed his wand on it and Harry followed suit. They murmured the spell at the same time and the colander glowed blue. "Hands on, you lot."

Begrudgingly Fred placed a hand there, looking at me expectantly. When I didn't do anything he firmly grabbed my wrist, even though I tried to wrench it away, and placed it on the portkey. In seconds we were flying.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

We landed with a thud in the middle of a plushly furnished office. Adder immediately stood up and stalked over to the door, clearly she knew the room well. Yanking open the door she went to stalk out only to run head-long into a tall man that shared her exact eye color.

"Merry Christmas, dear," he sighed, holding onto her upper arms. She wrenched herself away and looked upon the man with utter disgust.

"I don't _ever_ want to speak to you _ever_ again. I spend three months halfway across the world without a single letter. Not a single note! You told me you would write! I didn't even get a letter on my fucking birthday! I know you hate my guts but do you have to be so obvious about it?! It's so cliché," she shouted, going to shove past him. At this point I think it's safe to assume that this is the infamous American Minister. A smaller girl, around the same age if not a bit older then Albus peered around the doorjam, her eyes wide.

"Don't give me that look Audrey! You didn't do anything either!" Addison spat. "It's completely obvious I'm alone in the world. I'm seventeen now. I don't have to do _anything _you want of me!"

Well that's offensive. I _did_ just tell her that I wanted her. Do I not count?

"Addie, please, just stop for one second," her sister begged, coming fully into the room. She had Adder's same frame but tinier with dark hair and eyes; eyes that were filled to the brim in tears. I suddenly felt very out of place in a very private family moment. I don't think anyone has even realized that I was still standing here. "Addie, mommy's here. Just stop yelling for a moment. She wants to see us."

Adder froze stone cold then. Stopping her thrashing. Stopping her yelling. She just went flat.

"What?" she questioned, her voice barely above a whisper. "Don't you dare lie to me, Audrey."

"Why would I lie about this, Addie? She's here and she wants to talk to us. Please, I can't do it alone. I need you, Addie," Audrey all but pleaded.

Adder's gaze met her father's ashen one and without another word she followed Audrey out of the room. It was then he turned to me, a young man suddenly looking wan and tired.

"I am," he started, sighing as he massaged the bridge of his nose. "I am sorry you had to see that."

"Not the worst I've seen of her," I found myself quietly admitting.

"No? I'm not surprised. I've been keeping contact with your Headmistress and the Head of your Auror Department. They said she seemed to be doing much better so when this came along I thought everything would be sound," he sighed, motioning for me to take a seat.

"I ruined that. We got into a pretty big row before coming here," I found myself declaring as I slid into the seat. On his desk were pictures upon pictures of his girls. Adder looked the same but the only difference was that her hair was inky black instead of the red I'm so accustomed to. It wasn't until now, seeing this picture, that the red seemed so out of place on her head. "She's not a ginger?"

"Ginger? Oh, the hair. No—she's got her…she resembles my ex-wife very much," Minister Ryan coughed.

"I was always under the impression that Adder's Mum wasn't alive anymore," I shrugged.

"Is that what she told you? No, no that's not the case. Giselle, well Giselle left us about five years ago now. This is the first contact she's had with the girls since then. Addison has never been the same. She blames me, you see. Thinks my career drove her mother away. But she also blames herself a lot too, I think. She idolized her mother. It was easier to let her believe I was the bad guy then having her grow hating the vision that she so admired. And then things just went downhill. She started acting out, rebelling and being everything her mother had taught her not to be; dying her hair, running off, doing illegal magic. I don't think letting her believe it was my fault was the best strategy after all," the Minister replied softly, almost as if he was speaking to himself.

It all hit me then. I understood why she absolutely flipped her broomstick not even an hour ago. I understood her deep seeded trust issues and how my words were the worst possible thing to say because they really did hit her to the core. I wanted to break down then because with those two ill-fated sentences I probably have lost her forever. It was like all the air was sucked from my lungs.

"I want to thank you for looking out for my daughter these last three months. I know it was probably the hardest thing you have had to do. Trust me I know, I've been trying to do it for five years. Your Headmistress says that it was because of you and your cousin that she started to come out of the cage she's built for herself. But I believe now—now that her mother is around—things could get better."

"Sir—I would very much like to return to my family for the Holiday," I declared, slowly standing from the chair.

"Of course. I'm sorry to have dragged you away from them. I just wanted to thank you in person," the Minister replied, tapping his wand to the kitchen instrument.

"If she ever—well if she ever calms down could you tell her that I'm sorry and that I was wrong? And could you give her this?" I questioned, placing the small box on the table just as the colander began to glow blue.

"Of course," the Minister smiled, motioning for me to take hold. Before I could even place my hand on the device the door slammed open and a very clearly tear streaked Adder came flying in, bag flopping against her back. She shoved me aside and quickly grabbed hold of the key as it dragged her through space. In the blink of an eye she was gone.

Audrey then came stumbling into the room took one look around and hurled herself at her father, her own body wracking with sobs. Minister Ryan and I both looked at each other with bewildered expressions.

"What happened, sweet-pea? What's wrong?" the Minister goaded gently.

"Mom! It's all Mommy's fault! Mommy made Addie totally break down. Addie said she's never coming back and doesn't want to see any of us ever again and now she's gone!"


	22. Chapter 21

"Fred! Honey! I was worried when Adder came back without you! She was crying. Are you okay, dear?" Mum exclaimed as I hit the semi-dusty floor of The Burrow. It was only a few minutes past when Adder left but that still gave her plenty of time to make tons of distance ahead of us, especially if she apparated. If she apparated I'll probably never find her. The mere thought made my entire throat clench up with fear. It was only going to get colder out and it was almost dark.

"Which way did she go Mum?" I demanded, taking her by the shoulders. "Which way did she go?!"

"She went outside! Said she needed air," Grandpop supplied, pointing towards the door. I took off like a Firebolt towards the door, ignoring the questioning shouts behind me. Lily and Hugo were still out there making a snowman. It was so peaceful and so unlike my world that was falling apart at the seams. Now that I knew part of her story, now that I knew why, I couldn't lose her. I was going to prove to her that she belonged with me and that she belonged in this world if it killed me and hopefully before she killed herself.

_Stop. It's been five years she hasn't been suicidal. What makes you think she will be now?_

Because she ran off. Because she was doing the one thing she said she never does, crying.

_THAT DOESN'T MEAN ANYTHING._

I roughly shook my head, forcing my inner monologue to stop.

"Lily! Hugo! Where did Adder go?" I demanded, skidding to a stop in front of them. Hugo wiped his bright red nose with a mitten and shrugged.

"I just got here with the face for the snowman," he explained, turning to Lily.

"She went that way towards the woods and the pond. She was running awful fast, Freddy. Are you guys playing tag?"

I didn't even stop to answer. I vaulted the fence in one go and took off at a run towards the pond and the woods beyond our property. She could be halfway to the Lovegood's by now. That is if she didn't apparate. I'm just praying she didn't apparate. Training my eyes on the ground I began to pick out her footprints in the fresh snow. I almost felt elated—she left me a trail. By the time I reached the pond though, they were frantic. All over the edge like a lion pacing its cage. The ice was too thin to cross here so I ran down to the far side where I knew it didn't get much sun. I almost cried when I saw the tracks pick up on the other side. Picking my way across the ice I began to call out. She can't be far from here. She can't be. I didn't portkey that far behind her. I'm a faster runner.

"Adder! Please! Adder!"

The tracks stopped. I was in an outcropping of trees and they just stopped. I ran ten feet to the left.

"Adder! Please, just answer me! Please, we can work this out together!"

Ten feet to the right.

"Adder, love! Please! Don't run! Don't leave!"

Ten feet up.

"ADDER!"

Nothing. Not a single track. I must've missed something somewhere. Maybe these were Dominique and Cameron's? They like this pond. They could've gone exploring. As quick as I could I made my way back across the pond and towards the house, shouting her name the whole way. She didn't apparate. I couldn't have lost her. I could see The Burrow in the distance. The yard will filled with my family.

"Dominique! Dom! You went to the pond today! Didn't you? You and Cameron?" I shouted, letting the fence to the yard stop my running. Dominique had a pained look on her face. "There were tracks out there but they stopped. You were there after lunch, right?"

"Freddy—we didn't go there," she stated, coming over and grabbing my hands.

"No but you had to. They couldn't be her tracks. She wouldn't just apparate away. She wouldn't just leave like that. Those are your tracks!"

"Fred! They're not. She's gone now. But we're going to find her, okay? We're going to find her. Minister Ryan is in the house with Uncle Harry right now. They're making a plan. We're going to find her," Dominique declared, placing both hands on either side of my face. She kept repeating it but I knew she was wrong. She was good as gone. And I would never be able to mend my mistakes. I would never be able to make her whole again.

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

_Stand straight Addison._

Go away.

_Be proper Addison._

Leave. Me. Alone.

_Don't ever show weakness Addison. You're showing weakness._

Who the fuck are you to lecture me?

_Addison, don't you walk away when I'm speaking to you! A lady stays in conversation until she's excused. _

I'm not your fucking puppet any more.

_Do not speak to your mother in that way!_

You're not my mother! You're in my head! I'm going crazy! I'm going to die with my mother's ranting on my brain! Eventually. I couldn't bring myself to do it myself. I couldn't leave everything here. I just have to keep moving. Keep putting distance between me and my past. I just needed to find a place to sleep for a while. I just need to get away from what just occurred. I have plenty in my bag to keep me going for a few days. I can hide out till then and then ransack for the rest. Maybe go somewhere far away and start a new life. Be a whole other person.

I could feel the tears start again. I could feel them winding down my face as I tossed possible names around.

Kristy Johannasen. I'd be blonde. Change my eyes to a darker blue.

Rose Gunther. I'd be brunette with a bob. Change my eyes to brown.

Tara Reid. I'd be that crazy has-been Muggle celebrity. Strip for my meals at some smarmy club.

I could be Adder Ryan and apparate to a cliff and just fly. Maybe that would be the best after all. Just leap and fly for a micro of a second. Leave the world behind. Leave everything. The tears started streaming faster as I turned in a circle. I have no idea where I wound up. It was some small town, snow dusted and looking just like a gingerbread house. Not an ideal place to hide. I couldn't even tell if it was a Wizarding town.

Forcing myself to pull myself together I found a small alley and pictured a cave. Any cave. Safe from the elements. I can start a fire. I can hide. Gripping my wand tight I turned on my heel and felt my world turning inside out. When I landed my ankle twisted and I fell hard onto a pile of huge rocks. I didn't even feel it until I tried to stand up and get my surroundings. The pain sparked up my leg and almost made me collapse again. To my right, surrounded by rocks was a fissure in the wall of a cliff. A cave. Just what I wanted. With much difficulty I limped over the surrounding boulders until I could fall to my knees in the smallest pile of snow and crawl in. It was dark in there. Quiet. Nothing to hear but my own thoughts. But those I couldn't get rid of. Slipping off my bag, I fished out one of my spare sweaters, balled it up and lay down.

I closed my eyes trying to sleep but it all came rushing back. Numbly walking out with Audrey. She looked different from the last time I saw her. Gone were the tight bun and the flawless makeup. Gone were the extravagant robes and haughty demeanor. There stood a woman with her hair loose around her shoulders and clad in _jeans_. She wasn't what I had nightmares about. She wasn't what I remembered. Maybe five years slowly erases memories. Maybe she wasn't as uptight as the last time I saw her. Maybe she actually did love me. She had to if she was back. My thoughts were circling around my head. They were battling each other like a great big game of Quidditch. I'm reckless with flying—so I flew.

* * *

_Giselle's face hardened slightly at the sight of the life she left five years ago. The girls looked so much older. Audrey was practically a young woman yet so mousy and nervous as she approached. And Addison, her little lady was no longer such. She was in leather and chiffon. She was in tights. Her face was stark white against the rims of black around her eyes and the vivid red of her hair flanking her cheeks. She looked frozen as she approached. _

"_Mom?" she questioned quietly, her voice barely above a whisper. She looked at Giselle like she was a ghost or a mirage. As if she wasn't really there. But it's been five years; let's face it. She wasn't really there. _

"_You girls look so grown up," Giselle stated simply, sitting across from them in a plush leather chair. The lounge outside her ex-husbands office was still as extravagant as she remembered. The office she escaped from. Audrey looked hesitantly at her sister who was looking purposefully at her chipped black nails (the old Giselle would've shuddered and scolded her for doing such). _

"_You don't really deserve to notice that, do you?" the youngest whispered. She looked even surprised at herself. Not as surprised as Addison though, who looked at her sister in almost disgust. _

"_Audrey—you can't talk to Mother that way. It isn't ladylike," she declared, no semblance of sarcasm anywhere in her voice. _

"_Ladylike? You know what's not ladylike? Abandoning your family. Do you have any idea what you've done to us? What you've done to Addie? To me? To Daddy?" the youngest snapped. She had grown strong in Giselle's absence, it seems. Addison on the other hand—Giselle didn't know what to do._

"_Stop it Audrey! It was Dad's fault! He drove her away. He was always working. He didn't have time to see what proper ladies she was training us to be!"_

_Giselle looked between her first born children. One vivacious and independent and one broken._

"_Addie! Where is the hard girl that's been living in your body for five years? Who is this girl that is so willing to lick the feet of the one who kicked you?" Audrey snapped, standing to look at her sister. _

"_I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry I couldn't be the lady you wanted. I'm sorry I was too gangly and clumsy. I tried. I'm sorry Dad drove you away. Can you just come back now? Can we just be a family?"_

* * *

I jerked awake in a cold sweat, which was surprise because the temperature must've dropped by at least ten degrees. C'mon Addison, you're not ready to throw yourself off the cliff just yet. You can survive for a few days. Drawing my wand I numbly conjured a fire and set it on top of a stone with a good amount of distance from the makeshift stone bed I've made. I then forced myself to button my coat, pull on my gloves and fish out a blanket to wrap myself in. There. I closed my eyes against the tears pooling in them yet again. It seemed that five years of tears had quite a way of re-releasing themselves from the body. The dream. That stupid dream. It wasn't even a dream. I was watching everything that happened however many hours ago. I was watching myself be pathetic. I was watching Audrey be the brave one for once. But I still couldn't watch the end. Not again. Slowly, as the fire crackled, I fell back into a fitful sleep.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Fred, dear," Grandmum prompted. "You've got to eat."

"I'm not hungry, Gran. I ate a lot at lunch," I replied numbly. Didn't help that I promptly vomited it up when Dominique's words had sunk in. Grandmum sadly stroked my head and bent down to my level.

"A lot of people are looking for her, love."

"I let her shove me away from the portkey. I could've been there to stop her," I replied quietly before hoisting myself out of the chair and relenting to pacing yet again. Minister Ryan, Uncle Harry and Uncle Ron had hurried off to the ministry to alert the proper teams. Most everyone has left except for my family and Dominique. I wasn't leaving here. What if she changed her mind and came back? I needed to be here.

"Fred. Please stop pacing you're making me dizzy. Just sit and think of something happy, yeah? There's going to be hordes of people searching for her," Dominique pleaded from the couch, she grabbed my hand as I passed and yanked me in the direction of the chair I had just occupied. Think of something happy? Like I could do that right now? Think of something—

"Merlin! Dom! You're a genius!" I exclaimed, rushing into the kitchen for my wand.

"Fred! What's wrong?" Mum called from her perch at the kitchen table.

"My wand, Mum, where is it?" I questioned, turning over the few boxes on the table.

"In your coat, pet," she replied, handing it to me over the chair. I dug the wand out of my pocket and squeezed my eyes shut. Happy. Happy. Think happy. C'mon, happy.

"_Expecto Patronum_!"

Only a whisp. Happier. Think happier. Think her laugh. Think her smile. Think her insults. Happy. Think Happy. Think the night that you made love.

"_Expecto Patronum_," I exclaimed, my monkey shooting out of the tip of my wand and sitting patiently at my feet. "Go, go find her. Tell her we're looking and not going to stop. Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her to come home. Tell her please!" I begged, watching it streak out the window.

"Fred, dear, the chances of that reaching her are slim to none. She might be too far away," Mum chided gently.

"It's not. She'll get him. And I'll keep sending them until she hears me."

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

It was the glow that woke me up. It wasn't orange like the fire. It was soft and white and made me wonder if that's what I'll see if I decide to jump. When my eyes fluttered open it wasn't what I thought it was. It was a monkey, sitting patiently and just watching me with big eyes. It sat there, almost like it was making sure I saw it, before the voice started. As soon as it hit my ears I slapped a hand over my mouth to stop the sobs.

"Adder. I'm sorry. Come home. Please. We will keep looking. Won't stop. I'm sorry. Please come home," Fred echoed. His voice filled the cave and my head making me slap my hands over my ears. How did he find me? How can he save me now? He was right. I drive everyone away.

_I'm sorry mother for not being the lady like you wanted. _

Stop that! She doesn't care! She never cared!

_I'm sorry I was embarrassing and clumsy._

Stop.

_I'm sorry I wasn't enough!_

STOP IT! I just want to sleep some more but at this point I couldn't. I eased myself up, hissing in pain as I moved my leg. My ankle had somehow swollen to twice its size. Oh, that's right, I fell. Well I guess that takes stripping out of my list of possible new alibis. I reached behind my head and grabbed the sweater I was using as a pillow. Crawling with my dominant leg I filled it with snow, settling back with it planted on my bad ankle. I wanted to do something besides sit here with my thoughts but there was nothing to do. I was alone. In a cave. Only Merlin knows where. I can't close my eyes without watching the scene play out. I can't escape. I have to face the fact. I have to force myself to finish the story. Fred, _oh Fred_, was right. I had to feel. Settling under my blanket I forced my eyes shut. I was going to finish this story. I was going to live it over and over again until all these pent up feelings wore out. It would be only then that I could fly. I couldn't fly right now, I was too full.

* * *

"_I'm sorry, Mother. I'm sorry I couldn't be the lady you wanted. I'm sorry I was too gangly and clumsy. I tried. I'm sorry Dad drove you away. Can you just come back now? Can we just be a family?" Addison pleaded, finally looking up at the face that was so much like her own. _

"_Addison, I'm not coming back. I'm sorry, but I can't live this life anymore. I just came back to clear a few things up," Giselle stated calmly. "If afterwards you want to see me still I'd be happy to set up meeting times for us. I would like to have you girls as an addition to my new life."_

"_What do you mean _new_ life?" Addison questioned, some of the fire growing back into her voice. "Addison, your father didn't drive me away," Giselle started calmly. "I was having an affair for about a year before I left. I'm married to him now. We have a son. You have a half-brother. His name is Atticus. I would love for you two to meet him."_

"_You—you replaced us?" Addison questioned hesitantly. "You left us five years ago, without any contact since then so you can start a new family? So you can get away from us?" _

_Addison was building, realization blooming across her features. She looked sharply at her mother, her eyes wide and unforgiving from Giselle's heart. _

"_We weren't good enough for you so you left to make a new life. Do you even call yourself Giselle anymore? I guess I wasn't good enough. I didn't try hard enough to make myself who you wanted," she mumbled, looking at the wall just past Giselle's head. _

"_No! It wasn't you! It was the environment. I couldn't be near the politics and everything they came with," Giselle explained, becoming frantic. _

"_But, Mother, we _are_ the environment. We _are_ what the politics came with. But you didn't care. You didn't want me. Dad didn't want to deal with me, so he shipped me off to Hogwarts. You didn't want to deal with me, so you ran away with another man. Nobody wants me," Addison exclaimed, finally breaking down in tears. Giselle went to reach for her eldest child but she harshly held up a hand as tear after tear streamed down her face. "Save it. I'll leave. I'll go somewhere where nobody has to deal with me. I'll go away and I'll never come back." _

_And then she ran._

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

"Audrey, stop crying sweet-pea…We will find her, I promise…Now put Mrs. Stevens back on the fire, please…Yes, the British Ministry is being very kind…They're pulling out no stops to find her," Minister Ryan was explaining in the other room through the special Floo system they set up to go over continents. I stared numbly into space. It's been two days. No word. No sighting. Nothing. I can't even bring myself to conjure another Patronus. Family has been in and out of the Burrow. Pleading for me to eat. Begging for me to go home and sleep. I can't leave. If I leave here it'll become more real. I need to stay in the last place I had a connection to her.

"I believe they took it so seriously because it seems that the Head Auror's nephew was very close to Addison…He seems just as distraught as us…I have no idea…Does Addison even get involved with anyone but herself?...Yes, you're right, I suppose we're not dealing with the Addison we've grown to know at all anymore, are we?...I'll send word as soon as something new develops."

The footsteps that followed roused me slightly, but not much. It wasn't until the Minister was sitting on the ottoman in front of me did I rouse enough to be social.

"Fred," he started, his voice low and tired. "I must ask this question now. Is the reason you care so much because you have grown close to Addison? Friendship or otherwise?"

"Why does it matter?" I sighed, covering my eyes with my hand.

"Because I'm a father and it's my job."

I removed my hand to look him dead in the eyes. I don't know if I'll get this chance to admit this ever again. It was something I'll probably never get to admit to Addison herself.

"It was otherwise. I'm not just close to her sir, I'm in love with her."

And I've said the words out loud. The words I've been scared to succumb to for a month or so. And there's no taking them back. You can never take words back.

Minister Ryan stared at me for a few moments before nodding, standing and leaving. There were a few minutes of silence before more footsteps padded into the room. They were smaller this time. Family.

"No, I'm not hungry. No, I'm not going home," I sighed, placing my hand over my eyes again.

"Freddy?"

I uncovered them to reveal Hugo, watching me with great big brown eyes.

"I'm not in the mood, Hugo. Sorry," I sighed.

"Freddy—do you really love that girl?"

"Yeah, bud. I really do," I replied softly.

"Even though she's really mean?"

"Even though she's really mean." I echoed with a slight nod.

"Then I think I know how you can find her," he replied with a small shrug.


	23. Chapter 22

_Dear Everyone,  
I've figured out a way to find Addison. I'll be back as soon as I can. It was all thanks to Hugo. Aunt Hermione, he's just as brilliant as you and Rose (you too of course Uncle Ron). He showed me something that I could use. Something you two mentioned in his bedtime stories. Don't get upset with him. He was only trying to help. I'm safe. I'll send word periodically. But I can't just sit in that chair anymore, especially since I now have a fighting chance. Tell her father I'm going to bring her home safe. _

_Don't Worry,_

_Fred_

I was fortunate to leave in the middle of the night so nobody was there to stop me. Leaving the letter simply on the table I fisted Hugo's gift to me and wandered out to the middle of the apple orchard where I'll have some privacy. Hoisting my pack higher on my shoulders I forced my heart to stop pounding so I could recall what Hugo told me.

He said it helps true love find each other. All I had to do was click it, let the ball of light absorb me, and apparate. Seemed easy enough. Just the thought that I could be seeing her any second made me feel like I could cast a Patronus without second thought. I just hopped I wasn't too late. I held the small lighter in front of me and gave it a hearty click. Nothing. I tried it again. Nothing.

"Hugo! I thought you said this would work," I moaned, jamming the contraption in my pocket and taking out my wand. I'll just apparate and try again. I made sure I had a clear location in mind and turned on my heel, sucking myself into an airless void. I landed easily on my feet. The random town I picked was empty—but it was still early. Light was barely touching the trees. I looked around myself, settling on a small pub tucked in between the shops. I'll just get something hot in me and then try again. It just needs some time. Hugo said it brought Uncle Ron back to Aunt Hermione and Uncle Harry. That's two people—all I needed to find was Addison.

The door gave a friendly jangle as I pushed it open. There were all of two people sitting at the bar, their work boxes ready to go when they finish up their breakfast. The barkeep nodded to me as I sat down and hefted my pack on the stool next to me.

"Rather odd time of year to be travelling, eh?" he questioned, laying out a menu.

"I'm actually looking for someone," I found myself replying after ordering a cup of tea.

"Lookin' for someone? Aren't you rather young to be lookin' for anyone?"

"I'm of age," I shrugged numbly. Sipping my tea I thought of my options. I could send her another Patronus? I don't know how she was getting food. Nothing in that endless bag of hers could last longer than a day and we were on day three. At least she could get herself water. "Perhaps you've seen her? A girl, little bit shorter than me? Fire red hair, ice blue eyes?"

"Yeah—saw her," the one of patrons replied automatically. "Seemed frantic. Crying an awful lot. She was only here for a minute though and that was about three days ago. She ran down an alley and I didn't see her come out. I had to be off to work—figured she came out after I left."

The small soaring of my heart plummeted. That was the day she ran off. The trail would be cold from here.

"Thanks so much, that's really a help," I found myself mumbling, depositing some change on the bar and making my way out. So she was here. That was something. She came here at some point. Maybe she was sticking to towns?

The tiny part of me that hoped that was true knew in my gut that that wasn't her style. She'd want to be secluded. I slipped into the alley next to the pub and withdrew my wand. Thinking only of how I would feel when I found her I was able to conjure my monkey.

"Tell her I'm looking and I'm going to find her. Tell her to hold on. Tell her I lov—just tell her I'm on my way."

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

I was out of thoughts. I'd done what I said I'd do. I felt. I felt it all. I saw it from every angle. Every expression. It was ripping me to shreds and I couldn't handle it anymore. I just couldn't do it. I can't sit here and know that my own parents don't want me around. I fisted my hair in my hands and bowed my head between my knees. The thoughts that were going through my head made me dry heave. There was nothing but water in my stomach so all that came up was bile. As sick as it made me I was ready.

I saw it all. I did what Fred told me. I felt. And I felt things that tore me so much that I was never going to be able to be sewn back together. I started rocking again, gathering speed and pressing out all the noise with my hands. I'm ready for this. It's time. I'm empty enough to fly.

And I stopped. I was on auto-pilot now. Frantically I stuffed everything into my bag. It was few. A blanket. The sweater I screamed into to try and make everything stop. Finally I grabbed my wand. I needed a way to get to the top of this cliff. I needed a way to fly. I was just rushing out the mouth of the cave that I've called home for Merlin knows how many days when the white monkey greeted me again.

I was beginning to think I hallucinated it, the magical monkey that spoke in Fred's voice.

"I'm coming for you. I'm going to find you."

That's all it said. It's a message! It's a message. It's showing me where to go. I rushed out of the cave and looked all around for the streak of white. There was a path to the left of the face of the cliff. It wound upwards.

"That's where you want me to go? Up? But I'm just going to be coming back down again. Surely there must be a simpler method to dying."

My ankle only seemed to balloon out more since I've hurt it so it was a slow go. I limped and climbed my way to the top of the cliff. I don't know how long it took me. I was beyond time now. I do know that I left perfect little crescents in my palm with my fingernails. They were sort of pretty. When I'm done flying I should draw them. Now where'd that monkey go?

I could feel the tears pooling in my eyes again. I began to rake my hands through my hair, yanking at the roots as hard as I could. I couldn't find the monkey. It was so nice, speaking in Fred's voice. Telling me that he was coming. That it was okay to fly, now.

"Adder, hold on. I'm trying to find you. Hold on, love."

Oh, there it is. I tentatively reached out a hand to grab the monkey. Touch Fred's voice. But it dissipated. I just need to climb higher. Climb higher and it'll all be over. Nobody will have to deal with you ever again. The sobs were getting heavier with every step I took. My head was growing heavier. I could hardly hold it up. I was so tired. But everyone will be happy soon. I just need to keep climbing so I can fly.

* * *

**Fred**

* * *

The third random place I landed was a field. It was completely blanketed in snow, save for the tops of grain peeking out from under the white mounds. I was completely alone. Unpocketing my device I gave it a click. Nothing! Bloody nothing! I wanted to chuck it into the field. It's a waste of time and I'm not going to find her!

I forced myself to calm down and conjured another Patronus, telling her that I was going to find her and to hold on. These Patronuses were all I had to hold onto at the moment. Just the thought that she could be getting them was pushing me forward. I grabbed my wand and flipped around myself, holding my breath for a few seconds before landing on a random beach, much like Dominique's home. I took out my wand again and thought as hard as I could. This time before I try the device I was going to tell her I'm coming.

"Tell her I'm nearly there. Tell her I'm sorry."

I watched it take off before removing the device from my pocket. If it doesn't work this time I just might chuck it into the ocean. I palmed it a bit. If I threw it into the ocean I don't think Uncle Ron would be too happy with me. But I was so frustrated. Here was an object, a promise, that I was going to find her and bring her back and it doesn't even work. My thumb hovered over the switch—I should just go home. Leave this to the Aurors. I'm doing nothing but wasting my time, it's almost dark. I can't just keep aimlessly apparating because it wasn't going to do her any good and it wasn't getting me closer to finding her.

"Fred…"

I froze, whipping around to look at my surroundings.

"Fred…"

No! No! It was coming from the device. Oh Hugo, I could kiss you! This time when I gave it a click the tiny ball of light emerged. It floated in front of me, inviting me to step into it. With an almighty leap I turned on my heel as the ball of light flew into my chest.

Where I landed was windy, so windy I couldn't hear a thing. I strained to hear _anything_. And then I heard it, drifting down from the top of the cliff above me, aided by the wind. My name and sobbing. Why was she up there? She can't, no. No! I've come too far! I can't lose her now!

"Adder! No!" I bellowed, throwing myself hands first towards the rocks and beginning my climb towards the top. "ADDER! STOP!"

I wasn't climbing fast enough. I needed a broom. I needed something. I needed to climb faster.

"ADDER! I'm here, STOP! Come down!" I shouted, my breath hitching as I pushed all my energy into reaching the plateau at the top. The sobbing only grew louder, punctuated by words that I could yet understand.

"Adder! Adder, love, come down to me!" I nearly sobbed, reaching the last couple of feet and pushing myself forward. The wind was picking up and flurries of snow were beginning to pick up from off the ground, stinging my eyes and blurring my vision. Then I surfaced.

Adder was perched at the edge of the cliff. Her hair was ragged and tangled, her dress nearly in tatters. She wasn't wearing her coat and only had one boot on. Her empty foot was swelled to the size of a bludger.

"Monkey Fred! I'm ready to fly now! Why aren't you here?"

"I'm here Adder, I'm here! Turn around!" I shouted, scrambling to get closer to her. She stopped her shouting then, her shoulders still shaking in sobs.

"I knew you would be here to fly with me," she laughed, her voice thick with tears. "I'm ready to make everyone happy now. I had to _feel_. You told me to _feel. _I don't like the feeling! But I know now! I know that if I fly that everyone will be happy."

"NO! DO _NOT _FLY ADDISON!" I bellowed, stopping a few feet behind her. She cocked her head to the side.

"But I have to. I have to. Nobody wants me," she declared, letting her arms fall limply at her sides.

"Adder, turn around. Please, love turn around," I begged, wanting to snatch her and pull her away but afraid she would jump from the shock of it. I could feel the tears pooling, my eyes stinging from the cold. She listened though. Slowly she turned to face me, the tears streaming down her face and confusion coating every feature.

"Where'd the monkey go? Where'd you come from?" she questioned, her heels rocking against the edge. I could hear a jumble of large rocks tumbled down the face and hit the ground with a sickening thud.

"Does it matter? I'm here, love. Now step away from the cliff," I ordered, holding out a hand to her.

"Why'd you change your mind? I haven't. I know nobody cares. I know everything would be better," she shrugged, all the life that she had possessed while shouting gone.

"Addison. I care," I declared.

"No you don't. You said it yourself—nobody wants me around. Nobody wants me around and it'd be much easier if I flew," she argued, her bottom lip jutting out in a _very _uncharacteristic pout.

"I was wrong Adder, I care! I care so much about you it hurts!"

"No!"

"Yes! I'm _never _going to stop caring. No matter how hard you try to push me away, I'm not going anywhere!"

"Why?! I'm worthless! Why would you _want _to care? My own parents don't care."

"Because I love you, you big fat idiot!" I screamed, my voice going slightly hoarse. "I don't know why because you infuriate me but I do. And if you jump off that cliff you might as well kill me now. Because I'll never stop caring, Adder, I'll never stop caring. Please just come here. One step. Please, one step! I know that you've been destined to implode for like ever but we can fix that! We can fix it together!" I begged, falling to my knees.

The way she looked at me was like she couldn't exactly comprehend what I was saying. The tears were still coursing down her cheeks, the wind causing her hair to stick to them, blocking her features from me. My heart was pounding so hard I felt like I was going to throw up. I couldn't stun her cause she'd fall backwards. I couldn't body-bind her because the wind would send her over. She had to make the steps. I couldn't just sit here and let her choose me and everything in the world or death but it was my only choice.

"You care?"

"Yes. I care. Your father cares. He's got half of Wizarding Britain on a manhunt for you. We _care_. Please, love. Come here. Please step away," I begged.

"You're crying," she stated simply.

"I just want you here. Right with me. I just want to hold you," I replied earnestly.

"I've been doing a lot of that lately. It hurts," she sighed, looking up at the sky. The snow was coming down faster and harder. She rocked slightly again making another set of large rocks plummet down.

"Addison—please. Please come to me," I pleaded for what felt like could be the last time. My voice was barely heard above the wind. I bent my head forward and really let the tears fall. I couldn't watch her jump. I couldn't do it. It was clear now she was beyond coming to me. What was I going to do without her? How can you decide you love someone so much it hurts and then lose them? But then I felt pressure, the pressure of arms wrapping around my torso. I let out a sob of relief and latched my arms around her waist, pulling her to me. Pulling her to safety.

"Please don't cry—it hurts," she shouted, wiping her full palms against my cheeks.

"You idiot! You big fat git! How could you scare me like that?!" I choked out, burying my face in her hair.

"I scared you?" she questioned innocently. It was like she was a small child.

"Nearly to death," I declared, leaning back and giving her a hard kiss on the mouth. She didn't respond and when I pulled away she looked confused, raising one hand to her lips and touching them gently. "Now let's get out of this storm. There's no going home tonight."

* * *

**Adder**

* * *

Death is warm and comforting. Like someone holding you. It's also slightly smelly. I should open my eyes and see what it looks like. I'm kinda scared. I don't know if I'm ready—but I guess I don't really have a choice. It's done now, isn't it? Flying was frightening. The wind was so strong. But I landed. And now Death is ready to greet me.

Slowly I allowed my eyes to flutter open. Fuck! Death was this stupid cave! I did all that to wind up back here. It's warmer than in real life. I slowly swiveled my neck around. I thought you weren't supposed to feel any pain after Death because I feel like I've been hit by a million bludgers. But there's one good thing about Death. I'm being held.

Gently I eased myself up and looked at my holder. It knocked everything out of me and I could feel the hysteria bubbling up. I began to grab at my hair, trying to keep my breathing from reaching hyperventilation state. He wasn't supposed to be here. He was supposed to be home at The Burrow. Death wasn't allowed to take him too. As suddenly as I began to cry, he was awake.

"Pet, calm down," he declared, holding me tighter and cradling my head against his chest. "I'm here."

"You're not supposed to be!" I managed to get out, choking on my own saliva so much that I began to gag.

"I told you! I'm not going anywhere! I thought we covered this last night?" he replied, utterly bewildered. "You can't make me go anywhere. I'm staying right here with you and I'm not going away no matter how hard you push."

"No! If you're here then you're dead like me! You can't be. Death wasn't supposed to have you, just me," I explained, my sobs causing my words to hiccup drastically. This is too much. This is what Death was supposed to help me escape.

"You think you're? Oh no! Adder, love, you're not dead," Fred sighed, squeezing me tighter to him. "You're alive. You're alive and you're with me and nothing, not even yourself, is going to hurt you ever again."

"But—but—the cliff. I climbed and I was ready and…" I broke off, my sobs taking over me. I couldn't do this anymore. I couldn't face pain this raw. Fred didn't say anything, he just held me to his chest, massaging his fingers against my scalp and resting his cheek on my forehead.

"She left," I managed to get out. "She left and didn't want me."

"I know," he replied, burying his face in my hair.

"She didn't want me," I repeated. "She cheated on my Dad. She has a new family that she wants more than me."

"She's crazy. Who could want anyone _but_ you," Fred whispered so low that I don't think I was meant to hear.

"How am I supposed to live knowing my own mother doesn't want me?"

"You don't live like that," Fred shrugged. "You live knowing that your father wants you. That your sister wants you. That Mrs. Stevens wants you. That _I_ want you."

"You want me? Still?" I questioned hesitantly. "I'm not good for you."

"I don't care."

"I'm evil to you," I tried again.

"Again, don't care."

"I'm not _right_ for you," I tried finally.

"Wrong answer. It's completely mental but Adder, you're the _only_ one right for me. I don't get it either so don't try thinking about it too hard," he replied, lifting my chin to look at him.

"I'm broken," I finally admitted. "And I feel like my insides are raw."

"Well this time we'll set you right," he shrugged. I furrowed my brow into his chest and gave a grunt of confusion, wishing he would explain that. I have the world's largest headache. "See you're like a bone. You can break but that doesn't necessarily mean you get healed right. You could be crooked or weak. So then what you do is re-break the bone and set it right so it heals properly. You're broken but this time we're going to heal you straight and right. Trust me, I've broken enough bones to know about this metaphor."

"One more question. Then I want to sleep," I sighed, nuzzling under the blanket that was covering us both. "Why are we still in this fucking cave?"

Fred gave a rather loud laugh, making my head throb more. I attempted to smack him but gave a low yelp of pain. That hand hurt really badly. I could feel the brush of his lips against those knuckles.

"Once this storm stops we'll get you home," he declared, planting another kiss on my head as I drifted back to sleep.

* * *

"I don't understand! She was awake thirty-three hours ago and talking to me! Why won't she wake up!"

_Well isn't he testy?_

"Fred! You heard the Healer! Sometimes someone that's gone through trauma will heal through sleep. She's perfectly healthy. They fixed her ankle and hand right up easy."

"Then why won't she just wake up and why does she have to be in St. Mungos?"

"Stop whining, it's really unbecoming and rather pathetic."

_Yeah, Fred, Dom's right. You're acting like a pussy. A cute and caring pussy but a pussy none the less._

"Fine, but I'm not leaving until she does."

"Yes, Mr. Weasley, you've made that point very evident."

_Dad?_

"All in the day of a hero, Minister Ryan. I just wish I got to her before that storm then we wouldn't be going through this."

_Oh well _that's _modest._

"Son, you talked her off a cliff. I don't care if you got her home a week from now. You got her home alive."

_Oh—that's right. I'm broken. I nearly forgot._

"Barely—I was almost afraid I wouldn't at one point…"

"The main thing is you did, Freddy."

_Ooh, I've had enough of their babbling. Can't they see the injured party is trying to sleep?!_

"CAN YOU ALL STOP TALKING?! MY HEAD HURTS!"

"Addison!"

"Lights?" I countered, attempting to open my eyes but almost crying at the attempt. For the record, I never want to cry again. I've done enough of it for—well I still don't know how many days it was—but I've done enough of it for a lifetime. Though there was a good reason behind it. I felt my throat constrict again and struggled to get breath in and out. Everything was settling in again. I couldn't breathe.

"Adder! Adder, breathe!" Fred exclaimed by my left ear. My eyes flew open and my hand when to my throat. Wasn't happening. World was spinning.

"Addison, pumpkin, breathe. We're here. Just breathe," Dad soothed, taking one of my hands and holding it against his cheek. I gave him an alarmed look. He hasn't called me pumpkin since I was little. "Sorry, Adder. Breathe, Adder."

"She didn't want us," I managed out.

"I know," Dad sighed, brushing some of my hair out of my eyes.

"She cheated on you."

"I know," Dad snorted rather bitterly.

"What kind of name is Atticus?" I spat out.

"I know, right?! Like honestly, mother dearest, pick a more pretentious name!"

I flipped my head so fast that I almost cricked my neck.

"Audrey?"

"Present!" She cheered, shoving past Fred and crawling into bed with me. "I'm so sorry I didn't send my letters out."

Oh! Hogwarts! I nearly forgot I had spent a full term there and that my family abandoned me during it all. There was a slight pressure in my hand and I knew by the calloused touch that it was Fred. I could feel the tears pool in my eyes again. So much for not crying.

"You guys abandoned me," I choked out.

"Addison, I thought I was helping," Dad stated primly.

"Right—that _really_ felt great. That _really_ helped!" I snapped, yanking my hand out of his and using it to wipe some tears away. Audrey seemed lost—merely taking my hair and piling it on top of my head instead.

"We'll leave you to talk with your family," Dominique declared from the doorway.

"But! I said I wouldn't leave!" Fred demanded.

"Oh please. We'll get a cup of tea and come _right back_. Don't be such a baby," she snorted, stalking in and yanking him out of his chair. I heard him call her a few choice names as the door closed.

"Addie," Audrey stated, breaking the silence. "I _really_ think he loves you. Has he told you yet?"

"He just told me no matter how hard I pushed him away he wasn't going anywhere," I shrugged, turning my face away from my father.

"I should've taken that advice during those five years, dear," he sighed.

"He talked to me already. It's a good reason," Audrey whispered over-dramatically.

"Shut it Aud. I don't want to hear anything from either of you. I can't handle it anymore. My insides feel like they've been run over by a pack of hippogriffs and then charred by a dragon. I can't take any more excuses. I get it. You just didn't want me. I was the black sheep—it was easier," I announced, reaching up a free hand and entangling it in my hair so I could give it a large yank.

"Don't," Dad pleaded, pulling my hand away. "The Healer said you had a severely bruised scalp from doing that."

"Don't act like you suddenly care," I spat, trying to look anywhere but him or Audrey.

"Pumpkin, I've always cared. When you were younger I was so busy building a career so you two would have everything you ever needed. Your mother was the one that did all the rearing. Then she left. Along with losing the love of my life I also had to gain sudden knowledge on how to raise a thirteen and a ten year old. I had no idea what I was doing. When you started lashing out I thought all you needed was tough love.

"It was why I forbid anyone of contacting you at school. I thought it would drive the point home more. I was wrong. I should've been there for you. I should've tried to talk to you about your mother. I was wrong Addison. All this—all your pain is all my fault and that is something I will never forgive myself for."

"It wasn't all you," I allowed myself to admit. "Mom fucked me up pretty well too."

"I want to make it better. I'm going to make it better," Dad declared, taking my hand. "I'm going to take Fred's advice. No matter how hard you push—I'm not going anywhere. You won't get me to budge."

"This is precious," I gagged. "But really, quite disgusting."

"Addison," Dad sighed, before letting out a small laugh.

"I like you better like this anyways," Audrey announced suddenly. "That Mom-clone impression was scary."

"You were amazing. Who knew you had a set of balls that big," I laughed, allowing her to rest her head on my shoulder.

"Yeah well one of us had to be," she shrugged, aimlessly braiding my hair. "Fred's back. Doesn't give you much air does he?"

"Give him time—he just needs to get this out a bit," Dad replied. "You _really_ sent him into a tailspin. He was practically catatonic for the first two days. Then by day three he left a note claiming that he was going to find you with _something. _His family seemed to get it though."

"God I hope it doesn't last long. It's annoying," I declared, looking at him hover by the window. I gave him a cocked eyebrow which he merely grinned at. "How long was I gone anyways?"

"Four days, fifteen hours and twenty one seconds," Audrey answered automatically. I gave her a blank stare. "What! Fred wasn't the only one worried about you!"

"C'mon Audrey, let's let him in. We can go get some tea and leave them be for a moment," Dad declared, hoisting Audrey over his shoulder like she weighed nothing. She burst out laughing and gave a small wave to Fred as he slid into the room.

"Finally!" he exclaimed, practically jumping into the bed with me and immediately winding his arms around me.

"I don't remember inviting you," I pointed out, causing him to stiffen all over.

"I told you I wasn't going anywhere. That includes you trying to deny that you have feelings for me too!" he exclaimed, giving me a rather peeved look. "You can't deny that what happened that night before Christmas wasn't just sex. We made-"

"If you say 'made love' I might just vomit," I declared, slapping a hand over his mouth. "But rant heard. No, it wasn't just sex."

"Told you," he mumbled around my hand.

"Shut it I'm not done. Audrey thinks you're in love with me. Is that true?"

"Way to put a guy on the spot!" he exclaimed.

"Is it true?"I questioned again. Fred looked like he was going to pee his pants but finally let out a long breath.

"Yes, it's true. I'm very much in love with you," he finally answered, looking directly at me. Navy to ice.

"Well—if that's the case I think you should probably see the real me first," I stated, grabbing my bag from the table next to me and plunging my hand deep into its depths. I slowly unearthed the vial that had been lying in my bag for weeks. I nudged him aside and carefully massaged the potion into my hair. I could see my dark raven locks fall upon my shoulders. Back to normal. "Sorry—not a ginger for one."  
"I think I can live with that. I'm related to half of the ginger population in Britain," he shrugged.

"I'm really fucked up in the head," I put in.

"I already told you that we were going to set that bone properly," he replied.

"I curse a lot."

"Already fell in love with that."

"Almost killed myself."

"For one, saved you. You're welcome. For two—right back to that bone," Fred announced. "You're running out of declarations. It's starting to sound in my favor, here."

I stared at this boy. This one boy that has put me through total hell for almost four months of my life. This boy that would not stop pestering no matter how much I dished out on him. This one boy who was able to talk my most deranged self off a cliff. This one boy that secretly makes me laugh. This one boy that I simply cannot walk away from no matter how hard I tried.

"Well then I guess I'm going to have to love you as well."

Fred beamed at me before practically tackling me with his lips.

I think I was always going to have to love him from the start no matter how hard I tried to fight it from the beginning.

* * *

**A/A: That's it. That's the end. Funny how I take it down and when I reposted this story it literally took me two days to finish. I'm actually really proud of this fic, guys. The last three chapters absolutely killed me and my editor. I know you've spent twenty-plus chapters absolutely hating the protagonist but I hope after this you've gained a new appreciation for Adder Ryan. I sure did and I knew her fate all along. It was a difficult road but I made it. I sure hope you enjoy this one and expect updates to my other unfinished fic **_**Pirouettes and Transfiguration**_**. I think finishing this story has lifted my mental block on that one. Let me know if you want to see an epilogue—that's still up in the air. **

**Forever yours magically,**

**Emmie Rose**


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